


Lessons in Translation

by LittleLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, Grad Student Obi-Wan, M/M, Misunderstandings, Professor Qui-Gon, Size Difference, Teacher-Student Relationship, one cute kitten, sort of slice of life-y more than plotty but I'd hate to pigeonhole myself, way more smut happened than I expected?, we'll call that a happy accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: As a PhD student and the TA for his undergraduates, Qui-Gon had no idea if Obi-Wan technically counted as a student or a colleague at this point. What he did know was that Obi-Wan had a crush, but what twenty-five year old's were looking for tended to be a little different to those pushing fifty. Qui-Gon would never be satisfied with a single night, he wouldn’t be satisfied with many nights, if there were no days to accompany them. So he had resolved to ignore Obi-Wan's blushes.It was more easily said than done.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 90
Kudos: 325





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How about that lockdown amirite? Silver linings include some time to go back and give you oldest and dearest ships some loving.
> 
> BoJo just announced another three weeks of lockdown, so it's looking like updates will be semi regular #moresilverlinings
> 
> I've put down five chapters as a general ballpark, could change. Also I've no doubt this is littered with typos, forgive me, even in lockdown I'm too lazy to proofread.
> 
> Set in a vague UK location as ours is the system I know, E rating is for later chapters, I hope you enjoy!

“Professor Jinn!” A happy voice called, one that he’d recognise anywhere, and Qui-Gon wondered what he had done to deserve this. It was either something very good or very bad. 

“Hello Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied, turning around with a smile to find his TA beaming up at him, wide enough that his blue eye were crinkled at the edges - because, Obi-Wan was young enough that his eyes only crinkled when he smiled wide, Qui-Gon, on the other hand, had permanent crows feet around the eyes. It was one of the many reasons why he turned a blind eye to Obi-Wan’s crush. Oh, and the fact Obi-Wan was his PhD student. 

“What’re you doing here?” Obi-Wan asked, the sun streaming through the leaves was dappling over his light auburn hair. It was an unseasonably warm day for October, and had drawn most of the local students out of their dorms and into the park, really it wasn’t a surprise that Obi-Wan was here. “Well, I mean, obviously you’re on a run, sorry, silly question,” Obi-Wan’s smile turned bashful, ducking his eyes down as his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. 

“There are - ”

“- no silly questions, you always say that,” Obi-Wan laughed sweetly, reaching his hand out in a quickly aborted movement that left him scratching the back of his neck rather than reaching out for Qui-Gon’s bicep. It was probably for the best. “But we both know that’s not true. Do you usually run through here?” 

“Yes, most days. From here I head down to the river, then along until the lock, across and back the other side until I hit Elvet bridge, when I loop back through the park and home,” Qui-Gone replied, entirely unnecessarily, and pretended to himself that he wasn’t showing off. Obi-Wan’s soft mouth fell open and Qui-Gon desperately tried not to visibly preen. 

“But that’s got to be almost ten miles!”

“Yes well, I do a much shorter loop during the school week,” Qui-Gon replied, forcing himself not to pay attention to the way Obi-Wan’s eyes were gliding down his arms, and across his chest. “And you’re hardly out of shape yourself, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon added, and immediately regretted it when that blush appeared, deeper this time, and he wondered how far down it said, the student’s white t-shirt in the way of his view. 

“I’m nothing special,” Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon had the awful feeling that he thought it was true. 

“Oh? From what I hear you’re representing the University in both swimming and tennis this year,” Qui-Gon replied, hoping that Obi-Wan didn’t read into why exactly Qui-Gon knew that, lest he work out that Qui-Gon could scarcely hear a snippet of information about his favourite student without filing it away with more care than any of the priceless ancient translations in his possession.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, in that shy way of his that he only ever developed around Qui-Gon, he had seen him with his peers and other professors, he was confident and charming. Not that he wasn’t also charming like this, but it was different, it was a side of him only Qui-Gon ever got to see. 

“Competing in two disperate sports in national competitions does not seem like nothing. You mustn’t downplay your achievements,” Qui-Gon said, stamping down on the desire to squeeze his shoulder. 

“Still, it isn’t a ten mile run just for fun.”

“I am sure you would be more than capable of keeping up with me,” Qui-Gon said, before wondering if that sounded like an invitation, and if he wanted to be one. Obi-Wan smiled anew, laughing as he swept his eyes down Qui-Gon’s long legs, he opened his mouth to say something but they were interrupted by Another student calling over, frustration clear in his voice. 

“Obi! You coming back? I’m having trouble with this text, it’s too fragmented.” 

“Is that Anakin?” Qui-Gon asked, peering over towards the picnic table a little way off, under a tree, it was difficult to tell at such a distance, but Qui-Gon had fought hard for him to be accepted onto the history programme. 

“I’ll be back in a second,” Obi-Wan called, before turning back to Qui-Gon. “Yes, he’s worried about the cuneiform element in your class. I’m just helping him out,” Obi-Wan replied, before his smile turned cheeky. “It is ridiculously difficult for undergraduates.”

“I don’t remember you having any trouble with it,” Qui-Gon replied, before scolding himself, realising his tone was borderline flirtatious. 

“Yes, well, you have a nice voice - uh, I just mean, you’re easy to listen to,” Obi-Wan said flushing deeper, and though the  _ I wanted to impress you _ went unsaid, but entirely heard by Qui-Gon. He had been impressed, but it had been much easier to ignore the crush of an eighteen year old he didn’t know, than a twenty-five year old he’d known for almost seven years. From undergrad, to masters, and now onto PhD, Obi-Wan had been his favourite student since the first essay Obi-Wan had handed in to him, where he had thoroughly and brilliantly ripped apart the thesis of a college of Qui-Gons; Mace had not been amused, but it had left Qui-Gon laughing for hours. 

“For some, perhaps. You know Obi-Wan, your position as my TA does not mean you have to lose your extra-curricular time to it,” Qui-Gon said, concerned for a moment, despite being glad to know that someone was looking out for Anakin, he was a troubled boy. From a poor family, all of his predicted grades had been excellent, but during his final year of school he had lost his mother, and failed to sit - or just failed - his exams. Qui-Gon had been determined for that tragedy not to write his entire future. 

“I know, I want to. Anakin is bright, he just gets frustrated easily. I’m fairly sure he’s smarter than me already, he just needs to have some patience,” Obi-Wan said, pride creeping into his voice. 

“Impossible,” Qui-Gon replied, a touch too softly, and chose not to worry about the way Obi-Wan lit up. “You had best get back to him though.” 

“Yes, sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you. Enjoy the rest of your run, professor Jinn,” Obi-Wan wished him farewell. 

“And you with your study session,” Qui-Gon replied, turning to carry on with his run, able to feel Obi-Wan’s blue eyes heavy on his back as he went. 

Unlike most, Qui-Gon didn’t listen to music when he ran, it shut out too much of the world, much of the pleasure would be taken out of the activity if he wasn’t free to hear the chirping of the birds, the rush of the river, or the swish of the leaves in the breeze. The lack of music also allowed him to clear his head more effectively. Usually. Right now, the absence of something else to focus his mind on was leading it to run away with thoughts of Obi-Wan instead. 

Over the years, Qui-Gon had had many thoughts about Obi-Wan, and honestly, the young man being on his mind was not as unusual as Qui-Gon would like to pretend. All of these thoughts - every single one - was overwhelmingly warm and positive. 

While he was an undergraduate at least, Qui-Gon had managed to maintain the fiction that his endless stream of affectionate feelings towards Obi-Wan were nothing more than fondness for his favourite student, and by the time university rolled around, all the professors had favourites. 

But then he had stayed on to do his masters, requesting Qui-Gon as his academic supervisor, and with the increased time spent together had made Qui-Gon a little more aware of himself than he wanted to be in this situation. Because what was he really? He was a history professor with his fiftieth birthday looming on the horizon; there was nothing he could realistically offer Obi-Wan that he would want, they were at completely different stages in their lives. 

The fact that he occasionally thought about what he could offer Obi-Wan was absurd in and of itself anyway. Yes, he was aware of Obi-Wan’s crush, he would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to have missed it, but that hardly meant he was interested in anything more than a quick roll in the sheets. Obi-Wan didn’t seem like the type to find the fact that he was a professor enough alone to have created this crush, but the fact remained that Obi-Wan was barely twenty five, half his age. At twenty five Qui-Gon had been hopping across beds and borders with a zest for life reserved for the young, and he had no reason to believe that Obi-Wan was any different. 

Qui-Gon had seen Obi-Wan around his friends - of which he had many, friendly, charismatic and beautiful, it was no surprise that Obi-Wan was boundlessly popular with the other students - and he was lively and spirited. The last thing he would want is a relic like Qui-Gon wondering foolishly where he fit into that picture. 

As for that roll in the sheets, there was Qui-Gon’s job to consider, although honestly that was of surprisingly little concern to him. The real thing holding him back, staying his words and pretending not to notice Obi-Wan’s pouty mouth and big eyes, was that after seven years Qui-Gon knew, without a shred of doubt, that one night of passion, however sensational, was not going to be enough for him. 

When his last real attempt at a relationship had ended, many years ago now, she had sighed and said that Qui-Gon was un-jealous to such a point that it had her wondering if he even liked her, let alone loved her. At the time Qui-Gon had been disgruntled, not seeing how being free of such a poisonous emotion could be seen as a negative thing. But when he looked at Obi-Wan, something possessive and hungry reared up in his chest, when someone else flirted with him, something jealous longed to reach out, and he wondered for a moment, if she’d actually been right after all. Obi-Wan wasn’t even his, and he coveted him in a way he never had any of his other partners. 

But, with no desire to be an old letch, burden Obi-Wan with something he wasn’t bargaining for, or get himself irrevocably hurt - and probably out of a job - Qui-Gon quite firmly kept himself in line. It wasn’t as hard as it might have been, he’d had a few years of practice now, and Obi-Wan was a joy to be around in friendship anyway. 

And if he added an extra mile or two onto his long run to make sure that he was too exhausted for his mind or body to wander into dangerous territory when he got home, then no one else needed to know about it. 

He insisted to himself that he wasn’t disappointed when he jogged back through the park on his way home to find the picnic table Obi-Wan had been on empty. 

#

Monday morning, Qui-Gon, as he did every Monday morning, wondered what had possessed him to agree to run a lecture at 8:30am. He was tired, the students were tired, and everyone would work better if the damn thing started just half an hour later. It also forced him to drink coffee, which was revolting but better than the god awful energy drinks his students poured down their throats, leaving the lecture theatre smelling artificial and intensely  _ sugary _ . 

The sole exception to the tired and resentful eyes littering the room (littering, not filling the room, because it was 8:30am on a monday morning, and realistic expectations of students was important), was Obi-Wan. The morning class was for undergrads, and one of the few classes a week Obi-Wan assisted him with. It was also how he had discovered that Obi-Wan was a morning person - possibly the only fault Qui-Gon had ever found. 

“Good morning,” Qui-Gon said, only realising that he hadn’t actually spoken that morning yet until his voice came out gruffer than usual. He yawned and held up a hand while he down the last of his coffee, doing his best not to actually taste it, the students laughed good naturedly, and Obi-Wan looked at him with a kind of soft affection that almost hurt. 

After waking up steadily and teaching almost two hours on ancient Sumerian culture, the students filed out the room while Obi-Wan dutifully collected the sign-in sheet from wherever in the room it had ended up, bringin it over and taking out a pencil, crossing a few names off the list. 

“Definitely not actually here, they had their friends sign in for them,” Obi-Wan explained, as if Qui-Gon wasn’t used to this habit by now. 

“So cutthroat,” Qui-Gon teased, before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to tease Obi-Wan. 

“I don’t want their laziness to have a negative impact on your classes in the eyes of the university,” Obi-Wan said with a little fire and frown, before blushing as he so often did around Qui-Gon. “If they fail because they didn’t show up to your class, then that should be clear in the statistics. If you let them sign in for people who aren’t here and then they fail, it makes it look like you’re a bad teacher, which you are  _ not _ .” He finished, touchingly, Qui-Gon chuckled lightly.

“It would take a little more than a few bad statistics for them to get rid of me Obi-Wan, don’t worry,” Qui-Gon replied, his colleagues might think he was a troublemaker, and too liberal - even for a university - but they were all well aware of the reputation Qui-Gon brought with him to the university, a note of prestige that the department shamelessly leant on in the prospectus.

“I was wondering…” Obi-Wan trailed off, toying with a book on the large oak desk, and Qui-Gon’s heart thudded loudly in his chest and he thought of all the places that sentence could go. 

“Oh?” He asked, showing no outward signs of concern, hope, trepidation, or any other absurd emotion at such an innocent sentence. 

“I have a match this afternoon - tennis - and I was wondering if you would like to come?” Obi-Wan asked, before blushing furiously and turning his eyes to the book instead of Qui-Gon, nervously picking it up and fiddling with it. “It’s a qualifier, I’m playing Garen Muln, we’ve been playing against each other for years but he plays a psychological game as much as a physical one, does everything he can to undermine your confidence and break up the flow of a game to get an edge, and he’s said some choice things in the past to try and do that. It’s stupid, but I just feel better playing him if I have some support in the audience, a friend watching. Bant was going to come but there’s been some sort of emergency with her labs and she isn’t going to be able to make it, so I thought I’d ask you...Sorry. I’m being completely ridiculous, I shouldn’t have asked,” Obi-Wan trailed off, and he was flushed, but not with his usual faint bashful blush he always had around Qui-Gon, this was a the deep, uncomfortable red of embarrassment, and Qui-Gon wanted it to go away. 

“I’d be happy to come,” Qui-Gon said, Obi-Wan’s eyes snapping up to him, he’d been chewing at his lip and it was now red and plump and Qui-Gon forced himself not to look at it.

“You don’t have to, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bought it up, I shouldn’t let him get to me. I’m sure you have plans already,” Obi-Wan said, his tone of hope at odds with his words entirely. 

“I’m happy to come along. I used to play a bit of tennis myself, it’ll be nice to watch a game,” Qui-Gon said, truthfully he wasn’t all that interested in the sport and never had been, but Obi-Wan had immediately started smiling tentatively, so he regretted nothing. Watching Obi-Wan dart around a court would not be a hardship anyway. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Very, my only plan for the evening had been marking papers, and that can certainly wait another day,” Qui-Gon replied. 

“That can always wait another day, according to you,” Obi-Wan said impishly, the correct blush back to staining his cheeks. 

“Are you complaining about the speed at which you get your work returned to you?” 

“I wouldn’t dare. And it’s more, I have to listen to a lot of undergraduates complaining to  _ me _ about how long it takes  _ you _ ,” he groused good-naturedly. 

“Ah, these are the perils you accepted when you took the position,” Qui-Gon smiled back, Obi-Wan laughed a little, a beautiful sound that Qui-Gon treasured, before shaking himself and looking quickly at the clock. 

“I’ve got to go, or I’m going to be late for my shift,” Obi-Wan said apologetically, gathering up his messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He worked part time in the library, on top of everything else. 

“You’re far too busy Obi-Wan, you’re going to miss out on living if you’re not careful,” Qui-Gon said, handing him the bottle of water he sporadically forgot in Qui-Gon’s classroom. 

“Easier said than done when you’ve got rent, bills and books to buy, and no one to support you but yourself,” Obi-Wan said with a hearty laugh, zipping out the room with a smile, Qui-Gon couldn’t help the thought  _ I could support you _ , but decided to forget that he had ever thought it. 

Often, Qui-Gon visited the library. He justified to himself that the only reason Obi-Wan was usually working when he did was a coincidence born out of the fact that they had very similar schedules, and not engineered deliberately. But the fact remained, that he visited the library more often than was strictly necessary, even for his ongoing research. With this thought floating in the back of his head, Qui-Gon resisted the urge to visit the library that day, he already had the book that he needed - and he didn’t miss the fact than any time he was tardy returning a book, the date of return had been mysteriously extended. He would be seeing Obi-Wan again later after all - not that that was the reason he visited the library. He was almost fifty, and that would be the behaviour of a smitten adolescent. 

Diving into his research, the day wasn’t hard to pass, especially with Mace paying him a visit after lunch and begrudgingly admitted that he thought Anakin had been a good catch, if his grades were anything to go on. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but gloat a little, making his friend bitch about Anakin’s personality instead, which Qui-gon refused to tolerate. 

“Where’re you going?” Mace asked, when Qui-Gon started packing up half an hour before Obi-Wan’s match was due to start, the courts were only a ten minute walk away, but he wanted to make sure he was courtside, and had no idea how many people came to the matches. 

“I’m going over to the courts, there are some important matches being played, I thought I’d take a look,” Qui-Gon replied, resisting the sudden urge to lie, not only because he prided himself on being a generally honest person, but also because if he lied then he must think he was doing something wrong, or had something to hide, which he  _ didn’t _ . 

“Since when do you care about tennis?” Mace asked, raising an eyebrow and making no move to remove himself from Qui-Gon’s office. 

“I have many hobbies,” Qui-Gon replied. 

“And tennis is not one of them,” Mace said, looking at Qui-Gon closely. 

“Obi-Wan is playing, he asked me to come along,” Qui-Gon said,  _ because he had nothing to hide _ . Mace raised a brow and Qui-Gon refused to squirm or otherwise cease his packing up for the day. 

“That boy has a crush on you, you know,” Mace said, slowly, as if Qui-Gon was an idiot. 

“I am aware. But he is also a good friend and he asked me for some support.”

“A ‘good friend’,” Mace repeated, doing enough to actually irritate Qui-Gon, which was not easy to do. 

“Yes Mace, I have known him for seven years after all. I am aware that he is my student, but he is a twenty-five year old grad student who is also, in many of my classes, my colleague. It is no different to Adi and Aayla, they have the same relationship and can often be found sharing a drink in the pub together.”

“Sure, except that Aayla doesn’t gaze at Adi like she hung the sun, moon, and all the stars in the cosmos,” Mace replied, Qui-Gon puffed up, not liking the judgement Mace was casting over Obi-Wan right now, but before he could speak Mace held his hands up. “You’re right. It’s the same, just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m offended you think I would,” Qui-Gon said, with a note of genuine crossness in his voice, which Mace seemed to notice, as he finally got out of his chair and said his goodbyes. 

The courts were in need of a bit of TLC, that had been true for a long time, but tennis was not one of the university’s focused sports, and so was unlikely to make the cut for a bit of the budget until the stands were literally falling down. When Qui-Gon arrived there were only a few other people seated, and he managed to get a courtside seat easily, whittling away the wait for the match with a book he’d brought with him. A frivolous piece of fiction that he was thoroughly enjoying, in part because of the annoyed looks his colleagues shot him when they saw him with it instead of some old tome. 

By the time the match started, there were clumps of people here and there watching, most of which were clearly also tennis players at the university, interested in the outcome of the match. Another group seemed to just be looking for a nice place to have lunch in the sun, and the other real clump Qui-Gon had to assume were the friends of Obi-Wan’s opposition, given that they were wearing the paraphernalia of another university.

Obi-Wan appeared with a racket bag over his shoulder, his eyes nervously scanning the thin crowd as he began stretching. He smiled when he spotted Qui-Gon, waving at him in a way he hoped was encouraging.Obi-Wan focused himself after their hello, bouncing his palm against his racket and limbering up on the balls of his feet. His skin looked more tan than usual against the white of his tennis outfit, which consisted only of white shorts that hit his mid thigh and a white polo shirt that was tight on his biceps. 

Compared to him, Obi-Wan was a small man, shorter and slighter than Qui-Gon’s own bulky frame, but right now Qui-Gon could appreciate how athletic he was, corded muscles on his arms and legs, strong - if not broad - shoulders, a smooth stomach that flashed Qui-Gon a blonde happy trail when he turn and hit a practice serve. 

Obi-Wan returned to his stretches and Qui-Gon was slammed with another word that could be used to describe Obi-Wan;  _ flexible _ . Qui-Gon could still touch his toes, but Obi-Wan had the flats of his hands on the floor and his body bent nearly perfectly in half, his pert little ass framed by his white shorts in a way that should probably be against regulation. 

Qui-Gon tried to force his eyes away and failed, Obi-Wan ending his stretch and turning around to look at his sole supporter, smiling with that blush of his when he realised Qui-Gon had been watching, which made him fidget, because this wasn’t like Adi and Aayla and he knew it. For the rest of the match Qui-Gon forced his eyes to stay above the waist. 

The match went quickly, or at least, it felt as though it did to Qui-Gon, but whether that was because the time had been short or because watching Obi-Wan running deftly around the court with sweat rolling down his neck was just mesmerising. 

There was a moment, after Obi-Wan was on the verge of breaking Garen’s serve to take the first set, that Qui-Gon noticed Garen say something at the net that clearly left Obi-Wan off kilter, a frown on his face as he walked back to the baseline, not to mention the sudden jeering from Garen’s supporters, the caution of the bored looking umpire doing nothing to stop it.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon called out, ignoring the half-hearted ‘quiet’ the umpire fired his way as well. Obi-Wan looked up and Qui-Gon smiled at him. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he said, and Obi-Wan smiled at him, as if he had just imparted the wisdom of the universe, turned around and immediately cracked an ace straight past Garen, winning the set. 

When he turned around and winked at Qui-Gon, gleeful from his triumph, Qui-Gon hoped no one else noticed, but it left something warm knotting itself under his sternum, a sensation that Obi-Wan triggered far too often. 

Garen kept trying after that, but every time he said something to Qui-Gon, or had his friends boo at Obi-Wan, the younger man just turned to Qui-Gon and stole away a smile, which appeared to bolster Obi-Wan enough to ignore whatever it was Garen was saying that had him seeking out that comfort. Qui-Gon both wanted to know what it was that was being said, and feared that explaining why he had knocked out Obi-Wan’s rival would be harder than explaining why he was attending the match in the first place. 

It was a tough match, although Obi-Wan won in two straight sets, each one was a fight, and by the time Obi-Wan was called the winner he was shining with sweat and panting, putting images in Qui-Gon’s head that he was better off without. The younger man came bounding over, light on his feet despite his obvious fatigue, given a boost from the win.

“Congratulations,” Qui-Gon said with a grin, wondering if a friendly shoulder pat would be acceptable, but having the decision taken out of his hands when Obi-Wan spontaneously reached over the railing and drew Qui-Gon into a hug.Qui-Gon froze, but only for a second, before bringing his arms around the smaller man and giving him a squeeze. It wasn’t the first time Obi-Wan had hugged him, he had also done it upon receiving his masters and Qui-Gon accepting his PhD proposal. Qui-Gon tried to think if he had ever seen other professors give their PhD students a friendly hug, but then made the decision not to think about it at all. 

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said as he drew back, now tugging on one of his sweatbands. 

“What for?” Qui-Gon asked, genuinely confused. 

“I’m all sweaty,” Obi-Wan said, Qui-Gon was spared from wondering if ‘I don’t mind’ would be inappropriate as a response by Obi-Wan carrying on with a laugh. “I should bring you to all my competitions, you’re good luck.” 

“If I’m not busy,” Qui-Gon smiled, but he noticed Obi-Wan’s laugh falter and realised that it - of course - had been a joke, not a genuine offer, and for a moment he felt like an old fool. 

“That would be nice,” Obi-Wan replied, biting at his lip, taking pity on Qui-Gon’s misread and confirming what Qui-Gon already knew, yes there was a crush there, but Obi-Wan didn’t need nor want an old man crowding into his life for more than a single night, and Qui-Gon would never be satisfied with a single night. He wouldn’t be satisfied with many nights, if there were no days to accompany them, and that was where their desires diverged.. 

His resolve was far from iron tight though, and there was a distracting bead of sweat rolling down Obi-Wan’s neck, and pooling in his clavicle. Qui-Gon allowed himself to follow that drip of moisture away from his warring thoughts, only managing to look away when his eyes were drawn by the movement of Obi-Wan licking his lips and watching Qui-Gon with a look that he recognised as hungry. Qui-Gon cleared his throat and took a step back, aware suddenly that they had barely parted, after Obi-Wan’s impromptu hug.

“I’d better hit the showers,” Obi-Wan said, ducking his head to look up at Qui-Gon through his lashes. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Qui-Gon watched him leave, and cursed himself for being too much of a sentimental old bastard to follow him. 

#

“Professor! Are you alright?” Obi-Wan rushed over as Qui-Gon hobbled into the classroom, as usual ahead of his students and behind Obi-Wan, who had already set up the presentation for the day. 

“I’m fine, and I've told you a hundred times to call me Qui-Gon,” he waved Obi-Wan off, grouchy because of the pain arcing out of his knee every time he took a step and because it was a reminder of just how old he was getting. 

“Well when I left you last night you weren’t limping,” he pointed out, concern clear in his voice, but tamping down on the urge to get Qui-Gon’s chair for him as the older man glared at him. 

They’d stayed late in the department the night before, Obi-Wan having developed a new angle for his thesis that Qui-Gon found genuinely fascinating, leading to a research session that went on longer than Qui-Gon should have allowed, the quiet of the building and soft glow of the old department lights on Obi-Wan had been tempting. 

“I went for a run,” Qui-Gon explained, just barely.

“But when we left it was eleven already, I was practically asleep in my seat,” Obi-Wan replied, then his expression turned to a frown. “Did you go running in the dark and trip?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon grumbled in reply, one exposed root had been his undoing, in a park that he’s run through hundreds of times. “I went down hard on my knee and apparently I’m to old to just get back up from that anymore.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re too old,” Obi-Wan said, with a flirtatious smile, before blushing scarlet and trying to distract from what he’d just said by fiddling unnecessarily with the computer. “Have you gone to the physio?”

“No,” Qui-Gon replied, Obi-Wan straightened and frowned at him. 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s nothing serious.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were a doctor of medicine as well as history,” Obi-Wan said, somewhere between a tease and a scold. 

“It isn’t serious, I barely fell.”

“Yet you’re limping today. Go to the physio or you might end up doing yourself some real damage,” Obi-Wan nudged, Qui-Gon would deny that he was sulking, but the fact remained that he stared stonily at his papers for the class instead of Obi-Wan. “There’s one on campus, I can book you an appointment right now. I go there a lot, they do massage therapy and I get a lot of knots in my shoulder from tennis, so I can promise they aren’t a bunch of hacks.”

“I wasn’t going to say they were a bunch of hacks,” Qui-Gon groused, he’d been there before, he knew they weren’t a bunch of hacks, they were the only reason his back wasn’t constantly aggravating him anymore.

“Yes you were,” Obi-Wan smiled fondly - he was right too. 

“Fine. But I’ll make the appointment myself, I don’t need to be coddled,” Qui-Gon said, trying and failing to reel in some of his pride. 

“No, but sometimes it’s nice,” Obi-Wan replied, softly and with an almost imperceptible sad edge. It reminded Qui-Gon, that Obi-Wan didn’t have anyone to look after him either, but before he could think of something to say that wouldn’t be wildly inappropriate for a teacher to say to their student, the undergraduates started flooding into the room and the moment was gone. 

#

“Well if it isn’t my least favourite patient back for more,” Dr Billaba greeted, with her hands on her hips. “I’d ask you what you’ve done but given the limp I’m going to go with knee.” She continued, Qui-Gon begrudgingly nodded.

Thirty minutes later Qui-Gon was doing his damndest to keep from letting his various winces and pained grunts from showing as Depa pushed, poked and prodded at him asking him what hurt more.

“So,” she said, conversationally, as she bent Qui-Gon’s leg further than it probably had willingly gone in the last decade, whilst insisting that it was good for him. “Why did I have Kenobi phoning me and asking if you’d made an appointment.”

“He was concerned,” Qui-Gon replied, voice far too strained for his liking, Depa smirked at him wickedly, but released his leg. 

“He’s a good kid,” Depa said, her voice far more loaded than Qui-Gon was completely comfortable with, and the eyes she had trained on him were severe enough to make him wilt. 

“I am aware.”

“He talks about you a lot,” Depa said casually, flashing Qui-Gon a look like he’d caught him with his hand in the cookie jar when he helplessly perked up before he could stop himself. 

“Oh, I don’t see why,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Sure you don’t. Because you were born yesterday, and clearly you think I was as well, which I’m trying not to be offended by, by the way,” she said, digging her thumb into his knee again in a way she insisted was helping but certainly didn’t feel like it. 

“There is nothing going on between myself and Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, refusing to feel guilty about that fact that he hadn’t done a damn thing to nip Obi-Wan’s crush in the bud, even if he should have. If he was being honest with himself, he probably encouraged it.

“I didn’t say there was,” Depa said motioning for Qui-Gon to get back on his feet, where he had to begrudgingly admit that his knee did feel significantly better, though it still twinged. “And Obi-Wan is an adult who can make his own choices, and I don’t technically work for the university.” Depa shrugged. “I just think he’d rather you had a working leg,” Depa replied with a wink, Qui-Gon glared at her but figured that denying it - which was the  _ truth _ \- would only make him look guiltier. 

“What’s my prognosis,” Qui-Gon asked, bending his knee and putting his weight on it, encountering only a fraction of the pain he had two days ago.

“Nothing too serious, just avoid any high-impact activity for a few weeks and you’ll be fine - so that means no running.”

“But - “

“You know how you like to complain all the time that you feel old - and let's pretend that isn’t about the twenty-five year old I had on the phone earlier -well, you’re going to feel much older if you end up with a permanent problem in your knee because you couldn’t take one simple piece of advice,” Depa replied sternly, and Qui-Gon could see how she was able to keep so many sports teams in line constantly. 

“I just struggle to sleep if I don’t get enough sleep,” Qui-Gon argued weakly, knowing that she was right and he would follow her orders anyway. 

“I just said high impact. Go for a swim, if anything that’ll do you some good, nice balanced full bodied exercise,” she smiled at him, he grimaced in response. 

#

The university pool wasn’t so bad really, it was a fifty meter and even outside of squad training, it was still mostly filled with people doing laps, rather than messing around. More importantly, as a professor, he was allowed to use it for free.

Qui-Gon was a good swimmer, it wasn’t a hardship to get back in the pool, though it had been a while since he had been, as the familiar smell of chlorine assaulted him, he couldn’t really remember why that was.

“Professor!” 

Qui-Gon’s head whipped around and saw Obi-Wan heaving himself out the pool, glistening with water as his arms and shoulders flexed, that happy trail that had teased him weeks ago at a tennis match on full display, leading down to a tight pair of swim shorts.As Obi-Wan walked over, he pushed his wet hair back out of his face and smiled, sending another wave of water rivlets sliding down his torso, begging Qui-Gon’s eyes to follow. 

Ah, that was why.

“Are you supposed to be here?” Obi-Wan asked, crossing his hands over his slim chest and looking down at Qui-Gon’s knee pointedly. 

“I’m not a complete invalid,” Qui-Gon huffed.

“Clearly,” Obi-Wan smiled, eyes drifting across his chest before flicking back up to his face with a shy smile.

“No running for a few weeks, but I am allowed to swim.”

“You’ll be here a lot then! You run every day don’t you?” Obi-Wan asked excitedly, grabbing his drink from the side of the pool and taking a swig. 

“Yes, usually,” Qui-Gon said, a second too late in his realisation of what Obi-Wan was about to say to be able to protect himself against it. 

“We could swim together then! Only if you want to of course, but swimming can be such a lonely sport, I always think it’s nice to train with a partner,” Obi-Wan said, and looked so hopeful that Qui-Gon didn’t really stand a chance.

“Sounds perfect, I always work harder with someone there to push me,” Qui-Gon replied, helpless to do anything but agree. He didn’t recognise Obi-Wan’s devilish smirk for what it was until he was unceremoniously pushed into the pool with a laugh. When he resurfaced, spitting water and failing in his endeavours not to smile Obi-Wan was laughing. 

“You said you needed someone to push you.”

“You’ll pay for that, imp,” Qui-Gon growled, not meaning it for a second, and Obi-Wan continued to laugh as he slid back into the pool. 

Qui-Gon warmed up his muscles with a few lengths and was pleased to see that he still had no trouble catching the water and moving quickly as Obi-Wan followed along behind him.

“Want to race?” Obi-Wan asked, waggling his eyebrows comically. 

“I wouldn’t want to embarrass you,” Qui-Gon replied with a smirk.

“Oh big talk! Now you have to,” Obi-Wan said, standing closer to Qui-Gon than he normally would, but somehow water removed normal boundaries. 

“Alright then,” Qui-Gon agreed, which brought a delighted look to Obi-Wan’s face, and that warm feeling in Qui-Gon’s gut that was only ever getting more prominent backflip with delight. 

Obi-Wan set them off and Qui-Gon threw his all into it, just a one length sprint, over any greater distance Obi-Wan would have him easily because of his superior technique and stamina, but over fifty metres Qui-Gon’s greater height and power let him touch the wall just a second before Obi-Wan. 

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” Obi-Wan laughed when he realised he’d been beaten, shoving his hand against Qui-Gon’s bare chest. “I train for weeks but you just hop in and beat me. It’s unfair, you’re so much bigger than me.” It was something that Qui-Gon tried pointedly not to think about. 

“You swim longer distances and breastroke mainly. You’d have beaten me easily if we’d gone any further or any other stroke. You shouldn’t - ”

“- sell myself short, I know, you’re always telling me that.”

“Because you seem to have no concept of your own worth, and I find that unacceptable,” Qui-Gon replied, his favourite of Obi-Wan’s blushes staining his cheeks, already flushed from exertion.

They swam together, and after a couple of hours Qui-Gon was ready to call it a day, proud to see that Obi-Wan was also looking worn out, although he had no idea how long he’d already been going before Qui-Gon arrived at the pool. Before they got out, Obi-Wan asked when Qui-Gon thought he’d be coming for a swim most days, and Qui-Gon knew he could say a time when he knew Obi-Wan was busy to spare himself a little, before proceeding to answer with times he knew Obi-Wan usually had spare.

Qui-Gon watched the muscles on Obi-Wan’s back as he climbed out the pool and wondered when he had become such a glutton for punishment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Stay safe! Stay home if you can! If you're a key worker then know that I appreciate the shit out of you and think you're awesome! 
> 
> Comments and kudos keep the words flowing!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a 10k chapter this evening, enjoy! There is smut!

Obi-Wan was late. Qui-Gon was hyper aware of this fact, because it was so wildly out of character. In the seven years they had known each other, Obi-Wan had never been late, and only been absent if he was genuinely unwell. Yet his TA chair to the side of the room was empty, the class had already started, and Qui-Gon hadn’t received his usual email telling him he was off sick. Which meant that Obi-Wan was either late for the first time in his life, or so sick or hurt that he was unable to get to his phone. 

Qui-Gon looked out the window to the rain beating down against the glass, the greyness of the day making visibility very low, and worried for a moment for Obi-Wan on his bicycle around all of those cars in the slippery wet. 

“Professor Jinn, where’s Obi-Wan?” One of the students, something Kelley, asked. He never spoke in lectures nor seminars and his work was entirely average, the only reason Qui-Gon had even registered their last name was because this particular student had a penchant for mooning over Obi-Wan and doing his best to get extra attention from the TA. Qui-Gon also found him irritating, which he was sure had nothing to do with the blatant way he offered himself up to Obi-Wan every week. 

But not this week apparently, because Obi-Wan was not here this week. 

“Not here,” Qui-Gon replied drily, giving the student a pinched expression. 

Qui-Gon fired off an email to Obi-Wan, asking after his health, rather than scolding him for his tardiness or lack of communication, wherever the young man was, Qui-Gon was sure he had a good reason for not being here, and Qui-Gon did his level best to put images of him unconscious in a hospital bed out of his mind. 

Despite his distraction, and unexpected lack of help, the lecture passed relatively peacefully, the students sitting quietly and listening to what he had to say, as was usually the case at university; by now the students wanted to be there - lord knows it was costing them enough - and not many kids were forced to study history at university by pushy parents. 

He was packing up his things, repeatedly refreshing his emails, waiting for a response from Obi-Wan and trying not to let his concern seep back in now that the diversion his students presented was gone. He was also failing. But as he finally started shutting down his laptop until he was firmly installed in his office, the lecture hall door was pushed open and a very soggy Obi-Wan stood at the top of the room. 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, alarmed, taking long strides up the stairs to reach him quickly. He was soaked, shaking, arms bundled up around something in a towel, and looking deeply apologetic. “Are you quite alright?”

“I’m so sorry, I tried to send you an email but they’ve not been working from my phone for weeks, I should have got it fixed when I first noticed it but I’ve just been so b-busy,” Obi-Wan apologised, voice shaking. 

“I am more concerned with why you are dripping wet! You’re not even wearing a coat, it’s almost November,” Qui-Gon scolded, taking off his jacket and pulling it around Obi-Wan’s shoulders without thought. “What were you doing outside?”

“It was barely raining when I left this morning, and I was only dashing between buildings, I-I had no intention of being outside for long,” Obi-Wan replied, teeth still chattering around. “But, ah, well.” He muttered, jostling the thing in his arms, which both drew Qui-Gon’s attention and made the bundle move - move because what Qui-Gon had written off as some papers Obi-Wan didn’t want to get wet, was actually apparently a living, breathing, thing. 

“Meow,” it whined. 

“A cat?” Qui-Gon questioned, starting to see it now, though the poor thing was so small and so drenched that it was barely recognisable as a cat without deeper inspection. 

“A kitten,” Obi-Wan replied, a little glumly. “She was so wet when I found her, no people or anything around. I didn’t realise people  _ actually  _ just left cats outside in boxes when they didn’t want them!” He continued, face contorting in genuine anger for a second. “I couldn’t just leave her out there, she’d have died, but I was already a second or two behind my normal schedule for getting to your class and I couldn’t very well bring a sopping wet kitten into the lecture, so I went over to the cat rescue place - ”

“The one down on Sullivan? You’re so wet it looks as though you walked there.”

“I  _ did _ ,” Obi-Wan bemoaned, moving one of his arms to wipe the water that was still dripping from his hair out of his eyes. “I forgot my wallet this morning, which shouldn’t have mattered because I don’t usually need it, but it meant I couldn’t get a taxi and I could hardly ride my bike and hold a squirming, unhappy kitten safely.”

“She doesn’t look too unhappy now,” Qui-Gon pointed out, the kitten was at least not hissing or trying to escape Obi-Wan’s hold, Qui-Gon was fairly sure no living thing would deliberately try to escape Obi-Wan. 

“I think she’s just warmed up a bit. They gave me the towel, but they’re so crammed down there, they didn’t have space for another cat, but they said they’d take her if I really couldn’t, and they’d made sure she was healthy, but they wouldn’t be able to give her the attention she would need as she’s so young. And she was meowing sadly and shaking and looking up at me with her eyes, I couldn’t just  _ leave  _ her there,” Obi-Wan carried on, sounding more tortured than before, and something that was both very soft and very tight wrapped itself around Qui-Gon’s chest and refused to let go. 

“You did the right thing,” Qui-Gon said softly. He usually tried to avoid the animal rescue shelters of the world, he knew he’d want to take every single cat, dog and rabbit there home, and probably would do so. He’d had a rescue dog, a friendly little mongrel called Baron for a long time, but when he’d died a few years back, Qui-Gon hadn’t been able to bring himself to get another right away, now it was five years later and his home was still completely lifeless. Maybe he should pay the place a visit, relieve some of their burden. 

“Did I? Because the shelter might be full but it’s not like  _ I _ have any time on my hands either. I don’t have time to look after a kitten that needs lots of attention, and I don’t know anything about kittens either! I have two part-time jobs, am studying for my PhD, and am on two university squads, I don’t have time for a cat, I certainly can’t afford all the things she’ll need, this is the most stupid thing I’ve ever done - ”

“Obi-Wan, calm yourself,” Qui-Gon interrupted when Obi-Wan’s voice was growing more agitated, making the kitten start to wriggle around and whine. “Your compassion does not make you stupid, you were only trying to help, and without you this poor creature would have probably died.” 

“Still, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Even if I left both the swim and tennis squads I still wouldn’t have enough time. I’m going to have to take her back to the shelter after all,” Obi-Wan sighed, looking dejected as the kitten snuffled around. 

“I could take her,” Qui-Gon said, not only to wipe the sad look off of Obi-Wan’s face - which it did, the younger man looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“You don’t have to, this is my mess.”

“I want to, she needs a home and I can give her one, my house is far too empty as it is. And this is not a mess Obi-Wan, you are far too hard on yourself,” Qui-Gon said, as he felt compelled far too much around Obi-Wan, he had no idea why the young man could never seem to see his own worth. 

“If you’re sure,” Obi-Wan said smiling at him. “Do you want to hold her?” He passed over the little bundle, Qui-Gon taking it easily shifting around the towel so that he could see the tiny face peeking up at him. She was the size of about half his hand if that.

“She is very small,” Qui-Gon said, concerned. 

“I know,” Obi-Wan replied, voice back to fretting as he reached into his messenger bag. “The shelter thinks she was tossed out because her mother rejected her and the owners couldn’t be bothered to hand rear her. They said I’d need this and to phone if I had any questions. Of course I had questions! I don’t know how to hand rear a kitten!”

“Well, that,” Qui-Gon said, gesturing at the pippet Obi-Wan had pulled out, “is to drip feed her milk, she’s too young to be lapping it up already.” 

“Why do you know that?”

“When I was younger my parents had a farm,” Qui-Gon shrugged, he had many fond memories of that place, and learning how to hand rear animals had been as much a part of his childhood as learning to read had been. 

“There really isn’t anything you don’t know how to do, is there,” Obi-Wan laughed lightly, continuing to smile at Qui-Gon. 

“She can’t be left alone until she’s older, so it looks like I’m going to have two teaching assistants for a while,” Qui-Gon said, genuinely not minding the idea, as the little thing made little squeaks and sniffs in his hands. 

“I think I’m going to miss her,” Obi-Wan said, hsi skin was still red from the cold, but he had stopped shivering at least, Qui-Gon preened a little as Obi-Wan pulled the jacket closer around his shoulders. “I know I’ve only had her for a couple of hours, but it feels like we went through a lot together.”

“Well, as she’s with me not a stranger, you’ll be more than welcome to come and see her whenever you like,” Qui-Gon said, patently ignoring the fact that he had essentially just given Obi-Wan a flat invitation into his house, also refusing to acknowledge the fact that he hoped the younger man would take him up on the offer. “Would you like to name her?” 

“She’s your cat.”

“I think saving her life gives you naming rights,” Qui-Gon replied, and despite the redness of Obi-Wan’s cold cheeks, he could tell that he was blushing again. 

“What about Snookums?” Obi-Wan said, that impish look back on his face. 

“No.” Qui-Gon said flatly. 

“But you said I had naming rights, and it would so funny to see the big, formidable Professor Jinn walking around with a tiny kitten called Snookums,” Obi-Wan joked, grinning now. 

“Obi-Wan please,” Qui-Gon replied, helplessly. He knew Obi-Wan was kidding, but he also knew that if he insisted Qui-Gon would probably agree. 

“What about Pippa?” 

“Lovely,” Qui-Gon smiled. “I’ll book her an appointment at the vets and get the things I need for her today. But first of all, I think we should get you warm and dry before you catch a chill.”

“Right. Unfortunately all of my things are back at my flat, so back to the rain for me,” Obi-Wan laughed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck at Qui-Gon’s disapproving look. 

“I will drive you home, I usually walk, but given the deluge I didn’t today,” Qui-Gon said. He shifted the cat slightly so that he could pick up his things, but when he started to move, Obi-Wan gathered it all up for him. 

“I caused you enough trouble already today, I’m already wet, it’s not far, I can - ”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon stopped him, voice firm, with a hand on his shoulder. “If you think I’m letting you go back out in that without so much as a coat, then you don’t know me at all. Come along.”

“Thank you Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said, bashful in that way of his, and looking up at Qui-Gon exactly how Mace said he looked. 

Qui-Gon was fairly sure no one saw Obi-Wan climbing into his car, swaddled in his jacket, before reminding himself again, that he was not doing anything wrong. He was just giving a friend a lift home, a friend that fell somewhere ambiguously between student and colleague, but a friend nonetheless. 

“Um, this is me,” Obi-Wan said nervously as Qui-Gon pulled up outside a grotty block of flats down what was generally regarded as the bad end of town. It had been further than Obi-Wan made out, and with Obi-Wan’s tone, Qui-Gon realised that he was embarrassed about where he lived. Obi-Wan looked down Pippa in his lap, as if to avoid any judgement, and Qui-Gon wanted desperately to start the car back up and drive Obi-Wan back to his big, empty house, that sat in a nice neighbourhood, with a full fridge and working central heating. 

But he wasn’t allowed to do that, and Obi-Wan doubtless didn’t want him to either. 

“When I was a student, I mostly lived on beans, my roommate and I couldn’t afford a heating bill so we bought blankets and cut holes in them so we could wear them around the house - we should have patented that, we could have invented slankets. The house was in such a bad area that my roommate wouldn’t leave the house without a cricket bat,” Qui-Gon shook his head, smiling at the fond memory. It had the desired effect, and Obi-Wan’s expression slipped back into the smile Qui-Gon loved, the one that if he had his way, would never leave his face in the first place. 

“I’m just picturing you walking around in a slanket, I can’t do it,” Obi-Wan grinned, giggles bubbling up in his chest. 

“Well, it was more like a poncho to be honest,” Qui-Gon replied, happy when Obi-Wan’s giggles evolved into full bodied guffaws. 

“That’s even worse!”

“I pulled it off.”

“I don’t doubt that you could make anything look good professor,” Obi-Wan’s smile turned sly and the atmosphere turned heavy inside the car, Obi-Wan’s shirt was still all but adhered to his body from the rain. 

“I thought I told you to call me Qui-Gon,” was all he could find to say, swallowing thickly, his body turned towards Obi-Wan more than was strictly comfortable in the car. 

“You could make anything look good, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said teasingly, before blushing again, but he held his ground and didn’t look away. He licked his lips and Qui-Gon couldn’t help but follow the movement, his mind overflowing with thoughts about what those lips might taste like, how it would feel to lick between them, how Obi-Wan would look with beard burn on his soft cheeks, what he would look like in the morning glow, sleeping between the sheets of Qui-Gon’ big, empty bed. 

“Obi-Wan, I - ” Qui-gon broke off, his throat dry, the way Obi-Wan was looking at him, maybe he could have the mornings as well. Maybe he’d be able to make do with just a few nights, surely it was better to have had him at all, than be stuck in this limbo, aching to reach out and touch and constantly denying himself. 

“Yes?” Obi-Wan’s voice hitched, he was leaning forward, Qui-gon had to make a decision, he was - 

“ _ Meow _ .” Pippa shattered the moment, as she got josleted by Obi-Wan leaning forward. They both sat back in their seats, it was probably for the best.

“I should go,” Obi-Wan said, it was almost a question, but not quiet. Qui-Gon could stop him, he could start the car and drive him back to his house, just like he wanted, and Obi-Wan would let him. But it wouldn’t be just like he wanted, not really. Qui-Gon did his best to remind himself of that. 

“Yes, you need to get into some dry clothes,” Qui-gon said, reminding himself of why he had Obi-Wan in his car in the first place. 

“Will you be at the pool tomorrow morning?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully. His knee had been better for almost a fortnight, cleared by Depa to go back to running, but he’d still found himself at the pool just as much as in the park, and there was no point in lying to himself about why that was. 

“Probably can’t leave this one alone for that long yet,” Qui-Gon replied, using a careful finger to rub the top of her head.

“Ah, yes. Well, don’t leave me forever. I’ve been swimming personal bests ever since you’ve been training with me,” Obi-Wan said. Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan pushed himself more when they swam together, and he wasn’t alone in it. 

“If memory serves she’ll need to be around five weeks before I can leave her for a couple of hours. I’m not sure how old she is, but likely not that many weeks yet. And after being rejected by her mother, she will probably be more adverse to being left, so it might be a while longer. But I promise I’ll return when I can, perhaps one of my friends will be able to watch her for a few hours every few days, otherwise I think I’ll go mad without some form of exercise.” 

“That would be nice,” Obi-wan smiled, and Pippa whined loudly when Obi-Wan climbed out the car. 

“She misses you already,” Qui-gon said lightly, he knew the feeling. 

“Well, I’ll just have to come visit her then, won’t I.” Obi-Wan smiled and waved before dashing inside, out of the rain. 

#

The vet put Pippa at around three weeks old, although she was unavoidably small for that age. Qui-Gon was instructed not to leave her alone until she had at least hit seven weeks - and given that Pippa had taken to attaching herself to him like a barnacle, it wasn’t exactly a concern - and even then to only do so after consulting the vet first. A very cynical part of Qui-Gon wondered if that was just to extract more money from him for that appointment, but he was going to have to bring her in for so many shots and check-ups anyway that one more hardly mattered. 

He had a crash course in feeding the cat via the pippet, trying to encourage her to suck and only dripping her milk when she was struggling. He managed to buy the essentials at the vet before going on to the pet shop to buy the kitten some toys to play with, as well as a bottle for when she got a little older and didn’t need the pippet anymore.

All of this culminated in Qui-Gon having a very small kitten in a shallow, padded box on his desk, a warm lamp over it, with a large number of undergraduate students cooing over a kitten, instead of listening to his lecture on differences in translation of texts. 

“”Please go back to your seats,” Qui-gon said tiredly, perhaps for the fourth time in as many minutes. Off to the side, Obi-Wan covered his mouth and laughed. “Don’t touch her, she’ll get overwhelmed,” Qui-gon said, batting hands away before giving up and scooping Pippa up in his own, familiar-smelling hands, holder her close to his body and away from the gaggle of students. Thankfully, with the kitten out of reach, they all made their way back to their seats. 

“How did you end up with a kitten professor?” One student piped up, Qui-gon scowled. 

“I don’t see what that has to do with the six greek words for love and why the way we translate them can change the meaning of an ancient text entirely,” he grumbled, trying not to smile when he saw Obi-Wan biting his lip to hold in his laugh. 

“But sir - ”

“Mr Kenobi found the kitten abandoned a few days ago and saved it, but not having time to actually raise a kitten or look after a pet, I’ve taken her in,” Qui-Gon explained, “I hope that will be the end of the distraction for the day.” He finished, glowering when instead of focused minds he was instead answered with a chorus of ‘awwwws’ and Kelley something telling Obi-Wan how wonderful he was and finding an excuse to touch his arm. 

Qui-Gon ground his teeth and set the room a commentary to write on two diverging translations for next week. If they weren’t going to listen to him then they could do it in their own time. Absently, Qui-Gon wondered when he’d become such a grumpy old man, and how unattractive that must be to Obi-Wan. 

Chancing a glance over at the younger man, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan watching his hands, dwarfing Pippa and gently stroking her head. 

“Well, eventually they found their concentration,” Obi-Wan said, as the students started filing out of the room. 

“Eventually being the key word,” Qui-Gon grumbled. “I hope you’ll be better than they were in our study session,” he added, not that it was necessary, Obi-Wan was always a delight to teach. 

“I’m always good,” Obi-Wan smiled leading the way up to Qui-gon’s office for their once weekly ‘taught’ contact hour for Obi-Wan’s PhD, Qui-Gon ignored the heat in his own cheeks this time. 

Obi-Wan’s taught contact hour was mostly superfluous. Most professors used it to make sure their PhD students were on track with both their work and their lives, not getting lost of overwhelmed in everything they were having to do, as well as offering pieces of advice and new directions on their research. But Qui-Gon had found that they spent so much time together anyway, in undergraduate classes, the library, and more recently the pool as well, that Qui-Gon didn’t need a dedicated hour of the week to keep tabs on him. 

Still, he knew that they both enjoyed the time, an uninterrupted hour where they could work together in Qui-Gon’s homely office, occasionally trading thought provoking questions about Obi-Wan’s thesis subject matter. Qui-Gon always got a large chunk of his marking done in that hour - which in reality usually sprawled out into two, if Obi-Wan didn’t have a shift to get to, and if he did, Qui-Gon often just followed him to the library anway. 

The session today was less productive than usual, as despite both their words and Qui-Gon’s grumpiness, they were both more interested in playing with Pippa than doing any work this week. 

“She’s grown already, though I could hardly tell while you were holding her,” Obi-Wan said, holding up a small cloth mouse for her to play with. 

“What do you mean?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan chuckled, looking up from his playmate. 

“Your hands are so large I’m fairly sure anything would look tiny in them.”

“They’re not  _ that _ large,” Qui-Gon said, inspecting them closely and realising he was full of shit immediately. Obi-Wan laughed and reached over the table, taking one of Qui-Gon’s hands in both of his. 

“Look at them,” Obi-Wan said, running his hand over Qui-Gon’s fingers, then turning his hand over to run a thumb over Qui-Gon’s broad palm. It occured to Qui-Gon that he could completely encompass Obi-Wan’s hand in his, and he found himself doing so before he could stop himself. Obi-Wan looked up at him, biting his lip, his free hand drawing patterns on Qui-gon’s wrist. 

“Qui-Gon, I want - ” Obi-Wan’s stopped talking and drew his hands back quickly, as the old brass handle on Qui-Gon’s door turned, after a cursory knock. 

“Mace,” Qui-Gon said, voice a little too rough, as his collegue strode into the room. 

“Sorry, I thought your contact hour was at three,” he said, looking at Obi-Wan, who had pink cheeks. 

“It is,” Obi-Wan said, pretending for all the world that he was engrossed in his work. It made Qui-Gon wonder what would actually happen if they were sleeping together and the university found out. He’s never given it much thought before, oddly enough. Obi-Wan was twenty five, so it certainly wasn’t against any laws, but there probably was a policy somewhere in the contract he signed fifteen years ago saying he could be dismissed for conducting a relationship with a student. 

Qui-Gon decided not to look it up, lest he have to admit to himself that Obi-Wan was becoming harder and harder to look away from, even if what was being offered wasn’t everything Qui-Gon wanted. It was greedy to try and get everything though, wasn’t it? Perhaps Qui-Gon should be grateful for anything he could get. 

Still, he wasn’t going to look it up. 

“It’s almost five,” Mace pointed out, switching between looking at Qui-Gon and looking at Obi-Wan. 

“Is it? We must’ve lost track of time. It’s a nice quiet place to study,” Obi-Wan said, reaching for his bag and making Qui-Gon hate Mace just a little bit. “But I’ll get out of your hair, I’m supposed to be out on the courts in forty minutes anyway. Bye professors.” Obi-Wan smiled, leaving the room a full twenty minutes before he usually would have, and leaving Qui-gon with a sample piece of his work to mark. 

“I see you’re continuing to do nothing about that,” Mace said, holding a hand up when he could apparently tell that Qui-gon was about to bark at him in annoyance. “That’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“What then?” Qui-gon asked, letting Pippa pad around on his hand as a distraction from his irritation. 

“I feel obligated to warn you, though if you keep being such a grumpy bugger I don’t think I’ll bother,” Mace said, and then stopped before he actually delivered his warning, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Warn me about what?”

“Next friday, the whole department meeting, the one that the post-graduates have been invited to as well,” Mace started, and annoyingly stopped again, Qui-gon focused on the way Pippa was licking his palm to stop himself from snapping. 

“Yes?” It was unusual for all the post-grads to be invited to department meetings, so Qui-Gon had figured it was something important. The fact that Obi-Was was going to be there also making him less inclined to skip. 

“It’s not a meeting, they’re throwing you a surprise birthday party,” Mace said, and Qui-Gon blanched. The  _ last _ thing he wanted was any attention being drawn to how goddamn  _ old _ he was getting, he didn’t celebrate his birthday on a normal year, let along when he was turning fifty. 

“I can’t come,” Qui-Gon said, completely seriously. Mace laughed at him. 

“Yes you can, you’ve lost that excuse when you said you’d be able to make the department meeting. 

“I could bring Pippa to a department meeting, I can’t bring her to a party. I can’t come.”

“Don’t be so grumpy. That’s why I decided to tell you anyway, you need to get a kitten-sitter for next friday. No excuses, your classes are filled with undergrads desperate to suck up so you’ll agree to be their supervisor, pick one.”

“I’m not handing a vulnerable kitten over to an irresponsible undergrad.”

“So pick a responsible one,” Mace shrugged, reaching for the door again. “And don’t ruin the party, they’re planning on cracking out the good booze.”

#

“You could have told me,” Qui-Gon crabbed at Obi-Wan the next day, having come to the library during Obi-Wan’s shift, under the guise of extended the time period on one of his books, knowing full well Obi-Wan would have done it for him already. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Obi-Wan defended himself, scanning books from the returns box.

“A  _ horrible _ one,” Qui-Gon bitched, immediately regretting it when Obi-Wan looked hurt. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d hate it so much,” he said quietly, and with a high level of guilt, Qui-Gon realised that the whole debacle had probably been Obi-Wan’s idea. Qui-Gon sighed.

“It was a very nice thought Obi-Wan, but I don’t celebrate my birthday,” Qui-Gon said, wishing he could reach over the counter and wipe the upset tinge to Obi-Wan’s expression right off.

“Why not?” Obi-Wan asked, and Qui-gon couldn’t think of a good reason fast enough, so was forced to go with the truth. 

“I don’t like to be reminded of how old I’m getting,” he admitted, it sounded foolish when he said it out loud, but looking into Obi-Wan’s unmistakably youthful face reminded him that it really wasn’t. His age was the root of pretty much all of his current problems, bad knee very much included.

“You’re not old,” Obi-Wan said, a confused expression twisting up his face before it flattened out into something far too knowing for Qui-gon’s liking. He continued quietly, even for the library. “You know that’s not what I think, right? Is that why you won’t - ”

“Hey when I asked if we were allowed to bring pets in here you told me no!” One student complained, loudly, to Obi-Wan as they handed over a book, spotting Pippa in Qui-Gon’s hand, interrupting their conversation. Qui-Gon couldn’t tell if he was relieved or annoyed at it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have a kitten that you rescued from the street and are hand rearing that can’t be left alone?” Obi-Wan asked sarcastically, making the student wilt and scamper away. 

“I can’t really come to the party anyway, Obi-Wan, Pippa can’t be left alone,” Qui-Gon said, feeling a little bit of regret at the disappointment that washed over Obi-Wan’s face. 

“I organised it before you had her. Damn,” Obi-Wan sighed, biting furiously at his lip.

“Sir…?” Qui-Gon turned around to see Anakin standing behind him, to see a bit of queue behind him actually, which neither of them had noticed. 

“Sorry Anakin, I’ll get out the way.”

“Well no - I mean, that would be great actually - but I heard what you were talking about and I could, um, look after the cat for you, maybe? So you don’t have to miss the party.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer Anakin, but she’s a very young kitten and needs a lot of extra help and attention,” Qui-gon explained, unnecessarily considering that Anakin was in three of his classes and was therefore fairly familiar with Pippa by now. 

“I know, I don't think Padmé would mind helping.”

“Padmé?” 

“Amidala, she’s studying politics, she and Anakin have become good friends,” Obi-Wan explained before Anakin could, possibly for the best considering how red Anakin had gone, he was even more obvious than Obi-Wan.

“Yeah, her mum’s a vet, so she knows about animals.”

“Well, what do you think about that?” Obi-Wan asked, looking up at Qui-Gon hopefully, while Anakin fidgeted a little uncomfortably. 

“Alright, but I want to meet this Padmé first, make sure she’s comfortable with it and does know a thing or two about little ones,” Qui-Gon said, feeling absurdly like an overprotective father seeking out childcare for the first time. 

#

“Qui-Gon stop  _ working _ ,” Mace sighed at him, coming into Qui-Gon’s office uninvited and unannounced. “You’ve got an hour before your party is supposed to start, and I should think you’ll at least want to go home and change.” He continued, giving Qui-Gon’s perfectly serviceable outfit a dirty look. 

“Fine fine, I’ll leave in a moment,” Qui-Gon replied, he couldn’t be bothered to argue. Instead of moving, Qui-Gon stared down at the work in front of him, it was Obi-Wan’s, and he’d giving it full marks, which he was  _ sure _ it deserved. But there was this negging feeling in the back of his mind that he was too biased for his own good. Obi-Wan deserved good, critical, constructive feedback that he could work off, the problem was, Qui-Gon couldn’t find anything to criticise - rare, for his marking. 

“You don’t appear to have moved,” Mace said drily, after a few moments. 

“Can you check this over?” Qui-Gon asked, before he could second guess himself, reminding himself yet again, that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, and handing over the papers. 

“What is it?” Mace asked, taking it as it was handed over.

“Piece of work, make sure I’m understanding the new mark schemes for me, would you?” Qui-Gon said gruffly. Mace saw the name at the top of the paper and raised his eyebrows at Qui-Gon, but thankfully said nothing. 

“If you don’t come back I’ll come to your house and drag you back here,” Mace called after him. 

“You’re only interested in the champagne!” Qui-Gon bitched back, grabbing his coat and leaving. 

He’d handed Pippa over to Anakin and Padmé at lunch time, agreeing to pick her up the same time tomorrow, and if he was honest, he missed the little critter already. But he’d given them his phone number in case of emergencies, and was pleased when the pair had decided to use it to send him frequent photo updates instead, in the last one, Pippa had been sitting on Anakin’s head. 

Back at his house, Qui-Gon stood in front of his wardrobe full of perfectly functional clothes, wondering when he became so boring and fretting about what to wear more than he was willing to admit. Everyone was going to be wishing him a happy fiftieth all evening,  _ including Obi-Wan unfortunately _ \- so the last thing his pride could take was looking it as well. 

Eventually he settled on a long-sleeved, dark green henley and his nicer pair of jeans. He then stripped back off after deciding that he  _ just _ had enough time to wash and dry his hair, leaving it sat smooth around his shoulders, and much neater than usual. With his last few minutes, Qui-gon tidied up his beard, not that he let that get particularly unruly. 

Qui-Gon didn’t bother with his car, although it would make him bit late to the party, it wasn’t a long walk, and though it was fairly cold now, it wasn’t raining. He was still ten minutes away from the department, and already ten minutes late, when his phone pinged. 

_ I hope you haven’t done a runner _

It was from Obi-Wan, because Qui-Gon had decided that it was appropriate to give him his phone number, after he’d continued to have trouble with his email. The little messages Obi-Wan would send him throughout the day never failed to make Qui-gon smile, so it was difficult to regret it, even though he knew it probably wasn’t exactly pertinent to be giving students his phone number, let alone encouraging daily friendly text messages. 

_ Be there in ten _

Qui-Gon replied, smiling freely at the smiley face Obi-Wan sent back to him, because there was no one around to see him do it.

When he arrived, everyone jumped out in surprise, even though it was public knowledge by then that the cat was out of the proverbial bag, and Qui-Gon knew about the party. The history department was based in a rickety old building, but that hadn’t stopped the other professors and graduate students from doing their best to turn it into a suitable place for a party. The largest of the rooms had had the furniture taken out and music was playing loudly with some lights flashing around that Qui-Gon was definitely attributing to the post-grads, not professors. 

There was a buffet filled with the usual crappy but crowd-pleasing and sort-of charming party food that there always was at things like this. There were balloons which thankfully did not proclaim his age to the entire room, even though he was sure they were all well aware, much to his chagrin. 

Obi-Wan was looking lovely as ever, wearing clothes that accentuated his slim figure and made Qui-gon’s eyes follow him all around the room. He was in high demand though, popular among his peers, all of the assembled graduate students seemed to be vying for his attention, and Qui-Gon could hardly go and demand it, not when he had no right to, much less with the eyes of all his colleagues around the room. 

“Are you having fun?” Obi-Wan asked, a couple of hours into the night, shouting to be heard over the music in the room. He’s just extracted himself from a dance partner - though  _ dancing _ was not what Qui-Gon would call it, he thought sourly - and was panting slightly, face flushed and smiling. 

Qui-Gon was half tempted to say no, because for the last half hour he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes - or mind - away from the string of partners grinding all over Obi-Wan, and seething with barely hidden jealousy was not his idea of fun. But he firmly reminded himself that this was  _ exactly _ why he allowed himself to look not touch, he wasn’t young - even if the balloons didn’t say it - and clearly he wanted to give Obi-Wan far more than he was actually looking for. 

Qui-Gon had been repeating that to himself like a mantra, but the truth was he was only holding a bottle of beer - not his prefered drink - to have something to do with his hands that wasn’t reaching out for Obi-Wan because  _ christ _ he wanted him. And while the string of partners might have been reminding him of all the reasons he didn’t touch, watching the way Obi-Wan moved his body against his partners made him forget why it mattered to him so much.

“Some,” Qui-Gon said, smiling at Obi-Wan. 

“Well that’s not enough, you should do some dancing,” Obi-Wan said, reaching out to tug at Qui-Gon’s sleeve just as another arm slung itself around his shoulder’s and Adi’s voice filled his ears. 

“I agree, come on old man,” she laughed, tugging him towards the dance floor and away from Obi-Wan, who was apparently tipsy enough not to even try to hide his thunderous expression. 

“Save me a dance for later,” Obi-Wan called after him, head tilted to the side with disappointment. Qui-gon had never disliked Adi more. 

“He’s sweet on you,” Adi laughed as she pulled Qui-Gon into a dance. Qui-Gon decided to ignore her words and distract her by twirling her around, which was difficult to do with one hand still holding a beer, so he downed the drink and put it aside. 

After Qui-Gon had been dragged onto the dance floor, he apparently wasn’t allowed to leave it, which while fun, was also sobering, as he wasn’t even left free long enough to get another drink. By the time 1am was looming, the party had started to wind down, and Qui-Gon had failed to track down Obi-Wan and give him that dance - probably for the best, considering their audience and their constant need to point out Obi-Wan’s crush. At least none of them were observant enough to cotton on to his own, probably because a fifty year old man having a  _ crush _ on someone literally half his age was both creepy and ridiculous.

Qui-Gon begged his own goodbyes, his beers from the start of the night had all but worn off, and it would require alcohol for him to want to stay any longer, as most people were either gone or going, no one seemed to mind his not staying till the dire end. He found Obi-Wan gathering his own coat, not by chance, but because Qui-Gon did an entire sweep of the building to check that he hadn’t missed him. 

“Heading off as well?” Qui-Gon asked, even though it was obvious he was, Obi-Wan spun around and beamed at him, Qui-Gon almost felt like he was tipsy again.

“Qui-Gon! I thought you’d run off.”

“Not yet, all my grand escape plans were foiled.”

“You enjoyed yourself, don’t lie.”

“I did, thank you.”

“What for?” Obi-Wan asked, ducking out the door when Qui-Gon held it for him.

“I’ve no doubt this was all your doing, I had a lovely time.”

“Did you really?” Obi-Wan smiled, even though he’d asserted as much himself only a few seconds ago. 

“I did.”

“Well, good.” Obi-Wan watched him with a lazy smile, and Qui-Gon wondered how much he’d had to drink, before reminding himself that it  _ didn’t matter. _ “I’’m going this way.” Obi-Wan said, after a few charged moments, gesturing over his shoulder, Qui-Gon frowned. 

“The taxis are that way though.” He pointed in the opposite direction.

“I can’t afford a taxi,” Obi-Wan laughed grabbing at Qui-Gon’s hand as if that was the only way to get him to stop pointing, Qui-Gon held on when Obi-Wan tried to walk away, thinking about that bad neighbourhood he lived in, the time of night it was, and Obi-Wan’s tipsy state.

“I’ll get you one,” Qui-Gon said, face falling as he realised he didn’t have any money.

“You’ve not got your wallet have you?” Obi-Wan said, chuckling when Qui-Gon nodded. 

“Come back with me, I’ll drive you home. It’s only a thirty minute walk,” Qui-Gon suggested, hyper aware of the fact that Obi-Wan’s fingers were still tangled with his own. Obi-Wan seemed to consider it for a moment. 

“Okay,” he eventually said, they started walking, still holding hands, and Qui-Gon told himself he was just keeping Obi-Wan’s hands warm, and sounded ridiculous even to himself. 

They didn’t talk much as they walked, Qui-Gon lost for words as they headed through the park, hyper aware of the fact that it was one o’clock in the morning and they were headed back to Qui-Gon’s house. He had sweaty palms, of all things, not that Obi-Wan seemed to mind, having twined their fingers together without a word fifteen minutes into the walk. 

When they reached Qui-Gon’s house, he knew he should leave Obi-Wan outside just for a moment, pop in and get his keys, and drive Obi-Wan home, it was 1am, there was no reason to do anything else. 

“Would you like to come inside?” Was what he said, Obi-Wan smiled and followed him in. 

“This house is very you,” Obi-Wan said, looking around the hallway. Qui-Gon supposed it was old and rickety, just like him. Obi-Wan, who had apparently become a mind reader, rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean old.”

“What do you mean then?” Qui-gon asked, looking around the rustic old cottage he called home. 

“It’s full of character, and things that I think are interesting,” Obi-Wan said, pointing at a piece of art in the living room Qui-Gon had picked up from travelling in his youth. “And it’s very picturesque.”

“You would describe me as ‘picturesque’?”

“No, I’d call you extremely attractive, but that would be a strange thing to say about a house.”

“Obi-Wan - ”

“You know, I think you owe me a dance,” Obi-Wan said, walking over to the record player in the corner, and lifting the needle, Qui-Gon infinitely glad he hadn’t left anything embarrassing on the desk, as moody blues began to fill up the room. 

Obi-Wan held out a hand, and there was only one response Qui-Gon was ever going to have to that, reeling Obi-Wan in and beginning to sway him around the room. With Obi-Wan’s head tucked into his neck, there was no pretending that this was anything other than what it was. The feeling of Obi-Wan in his arms, pliant and sweet, was already dangerously addictive. 

Qui-Gon wasn’t sure how long they danced together, but when soft lips pressed a kiss against his neck he tightened his arms. Obi-Wan looked up at him, biting at his lip nervously, as if he could have possibly misread this situation. It made his lip redden, and Qui-Gon was overwhelmed with the desire to taste it, so he did. 

Obi-Wan sunk into him immediately when their lips met, giving himself over to Qui-Gon in a matter of seconds. He tasted sweet, like the fruity drinks Qui-Gon had seen in his hand occasionally throughout the evening, and melted under Qui-Gon’s touch, opening his lips at the slightest flick from Qui-Gon’s tongue, already making desperate little noises, his arms coming up to clutch around Qui-Gon’s neck.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon pulled back just enough to speak, able to taste Obi-Wan’s breath as he spoke, his big hands cradling the younger man’s face. 

“Mmm?” Obi-Wan managed, his hands slipping from Qui-Gon’s neck to bury themselves in his shirt. 

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” 

“Not much, I swear. And nothing in the last few hours,” Obi-Wan replied, Qui-Gon ducked forward and kissed his plump lips chastely once, twice, three times; just because he couldn’t help himself.

“And you want this?” Qui-Gon asked, needlessly he knew, but he wanted to hear it. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan hissed, hitching his body forward, pressing himself against Qui-Gon so that he could feel the younger man’s cock against his thigh, already hard. 

“Imp,” Qui-Gon growled, running his hands down Obi-Wan’s back, over his ass and under his thighs, hoisting the younger man up, his legs wrapping instinctually around Qui-Gon’s waist, losing himself in another kiss. 

Qui-Gon carried him easily, Obi-Wan exactly as light as he looked, navigating around his house, and even up the stairs without issue, even when Obi-Wan nibbled at his lip and used what leverage he had to grind down against Qui-Gon’s own thickening cock. Reaching the bedroom, Qui-Gon tossed Obi-Wan down on the bed, gratified at his flustered little squak as he bounced, staring up at Qui-Gon with dilated pupils and obscenely tented trousers. 

“Please take your shirt off,” Obi-Wan begged, crawling to the end of the bed and running his hands underneath the offending article. Qui-Gon did as he was asked, throwing his shirt to the side and burying a hand in Obi-Wan’s hair as he began kissing his way up Qui-Gon’s well-defined chest. 

“How are you this fit,” Obi-Wan breathed, licking over Qui-Gon’s abdominals. “Can I?” He asked, hands toying with Qui-Gon’s belt, unbuckling it and slipping it free as soon as Qui-Gon nodded. Making short work of the button and fly on his jeans, Obi-Wan pushed at the denim until it pooled around Qui-Gon’s feet.

He toyed with the waistband for a moment, before mouthing down over the cloth, making Qui-Gon’s breath hitch as he sucked at the head of his cock through the fabric, feeling himself harden faster at the sensation, resisting the urge to buck closer as Obi-Wan explored. He kissed his way down, licking over Qui-Gon’s shaft, sucking at his balls and making Qui-Gon hate the clothing still between his skin and Obi-Wan’s sweet mouth. 

Obi-Wan didn’t make him wait long. When he rid Qui-Gon of his underwear Obi-Wan whimpered, licking his lips as he looked at Qui-Gon’s cock. 

“God you’re so fucking  _ big _ ,” Obi-Wan breathed, close enough that Qui-Gon could feel it on his cock. He was hard, but his size meant that even hard, he hung thick and low between his thighs instead of standing up against his stomach. Obi-Wan lifted him up stroked him gently with one hand, holding the weight of him in his hand. 

“Obi-Wan - ” Qui-Gon said, a warning against the teasing, he had wanted this for too long, Obi-Wan could explore him another time. Obi-Wan shot him a coy look from beneath his lashes. 

“I’ve thought about this, you know,” he said, leaning forward and licking at the head, making a content noise. “I knew you’d be big, how could you not be. But even in my most self-indulgent fantasies, with my biggest toy in my ass, pretending it was your cock, I’d never done you justice.” Obi-Wan said before wrapping his lips around the tip of Qui-Gon’s cock and sucking. 

Qui-Gon groaned, Obi-Wan’s mouth and words had him tightening his grip in the younger man’s hair, thrilled when it made him moan and take more of his cock. He couldn’t take it all, not even close, but what he could stretched his mouth obscenely, and Qui-Gon could feel himself nudging the soft palate at the back of his throat anyway. Obi-Wan hummed happily and wrapped his hand around what his mouth couldn’t fit, running his hand up his cock and bobbing his head in tandem. 

When Qui-Gon thrust his hips, careful not to give Obi-Wan anymore than he was already taking, Obi-Wan moaned, his free hand flying down between his own legs as he began rutting into it, each pleasured noise he made pleasure shoot up Qui-Gon’s cock. 

Before he could lose himself entirely to the enthusiastic way Obi-Wan was sucking on his cock, Qui-Gon pulled him away, kissing the discontent, needy, noises right out of Obi-Wan’s mouth, pushing him back up the bed. 

“Please fuck me,” Obi-Wan gasped when Qui-Gon bit down on his neck, pulling back only to divest him of his shirt. “Please, I’ve thought about it so much, I want your cock. Please give it to me.”

“I never knew you had such a filthy mouth,” Qui-Gon murmured, gratified by the renewed whines Obi-Wan made around his words, when he fixed his mouth to one of his peaked nippled, alternating between licking, sucking and nipping, until it was puffy and red. 

“I can’t help it, I want you so much,” Obi-Wan moaned, letting Qui-Gon drag his tight trousers off his legs. 

“What else have you thought about?” Qui-Gon asked, fixing a hand over Obi-Wan’s cock, average in size, which meant Qui-Gon was able to engulf the whole thing in one large hand, something he liked  _ a lot _ , and so it appeared, did Obi-Wan, who whimpered and bucked into the new friction.

“So much, I don’t even know where to start. I think about you bending me over your desk when we’re alone in your office. I think about you eating me out for so long I have beard burn all over my ass. I think about you fingering me and then making me wear a plug, not fucking me until later. I think about you following me into the jacuzzi at the pool and fingering me right there. I think about you fucking me in the library, gagging me because I can’t keep quiet,” Obi-Wan gasped out, whining when Qui-Gon stripped off his briefs, wondering if he’d get the chance to tick any of Obi-Wan’s fantasies off the list, his cock throbbing just at the thought. 

“You’ve got a dirty mind,” Qui-Gon rumbled, trailing his fingers over Obi-Wan’s cock, weeping against his stomach and jumping at his touch. 

“That was the tame fantasies,” Obi-Wan whimpered as Qui-Gon rolled his balls in his palm. 

“Tell me the rest,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan managed to blush, even with Qui-Gon’s hand reaching back to play with his hole. “Enough to make such a dirty mouth blush? Now I really want to know.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Obi-Wan bit at his lip, but his legs fell open. 

“I want to give you anything you want, Obi-Wan, you can’t have it, if I don’t know you want it. I promise not to judge you, even if it isn’t my thing,” Qui-Gon said softly, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s neck, jaw, and then lips. “Tell me while I get you ready for my cock,” he finished, reaching into his bedside table to find the bottle of lube and a condom. 

Obi-Wan watched raptly, as Qui-Gon slicked his fingers, only letting his head drop back against the pillow with a moan when Qui-Gon slipped in the tip of his first finger. 

“I think about you praising me, even when you do it now, it makes me hot. I want you to tell me I’m good. But I also think about you taking me over your knee and spanking me when I misbehave,” Obi-Wan started, talking around moans and whines as Qui-Gon fucked him on one finger. 

“I think about falling asleep with you still inside me, waking up to you already fucking me. I want you to come all over me, but I also want you to come inside me and keep it there. I want you to tie me up and tease me for hours, to only let me come when I beg you. I want you to fuck my face and manhandle me with those huge hands of yours.” Obi-Wan cried out as Qui-Gon pushed a second finger into him, marvelling at the heat of him, the way his tight little muscles yielded around his big fingers. Qui-Gon’s cock was weeping now, begging for attention, begging for the things Obi-Wan thought about, Qui-Gon wanted to tell him so, but it seemed that now Obi-Wan had started talking he didn’t want to stop, and Qui-Gon wanted to hear everything.

“I think about sucking you off under your desk, of you keeping me there for hours, on my knees with your fat cock in my mouth. I think about you keeping me open for you, ready for you to fuck whenever you want.” Obi-Wan continued, grinding down on Qui-gon’s fingers when he added a third, stroking deep inside of Obi-Wan, twisting his fingers until he found his prostate, brushing over it and sending Obi-Wan arching off the bed. He noticed the way Obi-Wan’s cock was jumping against his stomach with need and wrapped a quick hand tight around the base.

“Not yet,” Qui-Gon growled. “You’re going to come on my cock.” He said, Obi-Wan threw his head back and moaned. “Good boy,” he said, as Obi-Wan calmed down just enough, though the words seemed to have almost as much effect as his fingers. 

“I’m ready.”

“No you’re not. Have you ever had anyone as big as me?” 

“No,” Obi-Wan whimpered, shaking his head. 

“Then you’re going to be god and take four of my fingers first, aren’t you?” Qui-Gon said, watching the way Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered in pleasure as he pushed the fourth digit inside him.

“Yes, yes I’ll be good.”

“I know you will,” Qui-gon praised, leaning down to kiss Obi-Wan’s hip. “Is there anything else you want?” 

“I-I want you to hold close and fuck me until come so hard I fall asleep in your arms,” Obi-Wan whispered, as if this was the most ilicit thing he had said yet, Qui-Gon smiled and leaned up to kiss him, gently pulling his fingers free and reaching for the condom. 

“Some of the things you want require a clothed conversation first, but that, I can do,” Qui-Gon murmured, rolling the condom down his shaft and letting the head slap against Obi-Wan’s stretched hole. “If this hurts, you tell me.” He instructed, not pushing forward until Obi-Wan nodded. 

Qui-Gon hooked one of Obi-Wan’s legs over his shoulder, the other resting in the crook of his arm, poured some more lube over his cock, and pressed the head against Obi-Wan’s hole. Obi-Wan’s gasp trailed into a whimper as he relaxed enough for the head of Qui-Gon’s cock to push inside. 

“You’re so fucking big,” Obi-Wan said, not for the first time, gazing up at Qui-Gon with a dazed expresison on his face. 

“Tell me to stop if you need,” Qui-Gon said, forcing himself to hold still as he tried to ascertain if Obi-Wan was hurting or not. 

“Don’t you dare,” Obi-Wan warned, grinding himself down and moaning as he took another inch. 

Qui-Gon was overwhelmed, wanting nothing more than to slam himself inside Obi-Wan’s perfect little ass, but adamantly not letting himself do so, even as Obi-Wan’s muscles squeezed his cock and pulled more of him in. Inch by inch, Qui-Gon slid into Obi-Wan, watching him for any signs of discomfort, relieved when he saw nothing but blissed out pleasure on Obi-Wan’s face, his cock still hard and wet in Qui-gon’s hand. When Qui-Gon’s hips were finally snug against Obi-Wan’s ass, he let out a deep, satisfied groan and ground forward. 

“God you're so deep,” Obi-Wan whimpered, hands grasping at Qui-Gon’s broad shoulders. “Please move.”

Qui-Gon did as he was asked, slowly pulling out and fucking back into the slim body beneath him. Obi-Wan was so responsive, crying out and clawing at his shoulders, begging him to go faster with every inch of his body, as well as his voice. 

Picking up speed, Qui-Gon hitched Obi-Wan’s legs to splay open even further, looking down at where his cock was thrusting in and out of Obi-Wan’s abused hole, shifting his angle until he found one that sent Obi-Wan reeling, scratching up his back. 

The room filled up with the slick sounds of skin on skin and heavy breathing, one of Obi-Wan’s hands found its way into Qui-Gon’s hair. The combination of Obi-Wan’s mouth on his cock earlier, and Qui-Gon’s thorough fingering of Obi-Wan’s hole had them both on edge faster than Qui-Gon expected. He hadn’t come so close to the edge so quickly for at least a decade, but with Obi-Wan’s ass squeezing him relentlessly, with his beautiful body panting beneath him, with foreplay that had lasted at least five years, Qui-Gon could feel his climax approaching. 

“Kiss me,” Obi-Wan panted, and Qui-Gon was more than happy to oblige, locking their lips together as his hips started to lose their rhythm, pounding into Obi-Wan at a more erratic speed.

Qui-Gon wrapped one hand around Obi-Wan’s smaller cock, covering the whole thing with one hand and holding it tight, letting Obi-Wan feel his hand around him, feel how much bigger Qui-Gon as than him, not jerking him, just giving him something to rut against.

“Oh fuck,” Obi-Wan cried out, his cock jerking wildly in Qui-Gon’s hand, so close to coming. 

“You’re so good,” Qui-Gon praised in a low voice, and Obi-Wan was gone, his cock spurting white up his chest, a high keening noise dragged out of his throat, his face going tight and then slack in a lush ‘O’.

Obi-Wan’s already tight ass clamped down around him, pulsing with his orgasm and dragging Qui-Gon’s own climax out of him as he pumped his release into the condom, longing for a moment to fuck Obi-Wan bare, and fill him up just like he said he wanted. Qui-Gon fucked them both through the aftershocks, until Obi-Wan was whining with oversensitivity, and Qui-Gon’s own cock was softening. 

Obi-Wan whimpered sadly when he slipped himself out of his red hole as carefully as he could and was reminded of one of the things Obi-Wan had said he wanted; to fall asleep with Qui-Gon still inside him. The thought alone made his spent cock pulse feebly, but it would be uncomfortable to do with a condom on, so Qui-Gon leant down and kissed Obi-Wan in apology. 

“I’ll be right back,” Qui-Gon whispered, kissing Obi-Wan’s now sleepy face and disappearing into the bathroom. He reemerged with a warm flannel and gently cleaned Obi-Wan’s gaping hole and messy chest, wiping his own cock clean last.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Obi-Wan murmured tiredly, already most of the way to sleep.

“Of course,” Qui-Gon said, tossing the flannel aside and slipping back into the bed, happy when Obi-Wan immediately rolled towards him, looking to be held.

Qui-Gon decided not to fret about the morning, found it difficult to fret about anything with Obi-Wan sleeping in his arms, and committed the sight and sensation to memory, before letting himself fall asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! If there are any particular kinks you want qui and obi to indulge in, feel free to tell me and I'll see what I can do!
> 
> Comments and kudos are the wind beneath my wings. Stay home and stay safe if you can, stay awesome and heroic if you're one of our vital key workers! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter is mostly porn?

It took Qui-Gon a moment the next morning to realise that he was awake and not safely sequestered in a pleasant dream as Obi-Wan snored lightly beside him. Qui-Gon had imagined - when he allowed himself - that Obi-Wan would wake before him, given how chipper he was at early morning lectures, but he was glad to find the younger man still asleep in his arms. 

They had moved in the night, Obi-Wan’s back now pressed snug to Qui-Gon’s larger chest, with Qui-Gon’s arm draped over the younger man’s slim waist. Unbidden, Qui-Gon was overtaken by a wave of desire to wake up like this every morning from now until the very end, and then crushed the thought with a ruthlessness that he usually spared for students cheating on their exams.

Deciding that he could at least enjoy the moment while he had it Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan a little tighter, tucking him more securely under his chin. At the movement, Obi-Wan let out a sleepy, content sigh, and burrowed deeper into the blankets and Qui-Gon’s hold, shifting his hips back in a thoroughly distracting manner. 

Giving into himself, Qui-Gon shifted again, letting his lips fall against the soft skin of Obi-Wan’s pale neck and begin leaving a trail of kisses across to his shoulder, and back again to the sensitive junction of his neck. Obi-Wan made a contented noise, floating now somewhere between asleep and awake as he melted into Qui-Gon’s ministrations, breath hitching as Qui-Gon nibbled at his earlobe playfully. 

“Mmm. Good morning,” Obi-Wan sighed after a few more moments, rubbing himself back against Qui-Gon’s growing cock with more intent, neither of them had bothered to put on a scrap of clothing the night before, leaving Qui-Gon pressed against Obi-Wan’s bare skin. 

“Yes it is,” Qui-Gon replied, rubbing his thickening cock along the crack of Obi-Wan’s ass. 

“Could be better though…” Obi-Wan trailed off, even as he reached back to trail his fingers over the head of Qui-Gon’s cock. 

“Oh?”

“Mmm. I think I said something about waking up with you already fucking me,” Obi-Wan said, brazenly even as he blushed all the way down to his chest, Qui-Gon let out a low, throaty laugh, kissing Obi-Wan once more before rolling the younger man onto his back, Qui-Gon propped on his elbow beside him. 

“As much as I would be more than happy to oblige,” Qui-Gon murmured, trying not to get distracted by the way Obi-Wan’s pliant fingers were still playing lightly, absently, with his cock. “That requires more of a conversation than a desire gasped out in a moment of passion.”

“So responsible,” Obi-Wan teased. 

“Besides,” Qui-Gon breathed, letting his hand stroke down Obi-Wan’s stomach, over his hard cock and down past his balls, running a finger gently over his rim. “I rather suspected you might be sore.” Qui-Gon chuckled and pressed another kiss to Obi-Wan’s warm skin when his blush turned from pink to red. 

“A little,” he admitted.

“Well then, you’ll have to wait before I can fuck you again,” Qui-Gon said, squeezing one of Obi-Wan’s pert ass cheeks. 

“But - ” Obi-Wan started with a pout, which Qui-Gon promptly kissed away. 

“Fear not, I still fully intend on making you come again before you leave this bed,” Qui-Gon said, enjoying the way Obi-Wan shivered. “Turn over,” Qui-Gon said, kissing down Obi-Wan’s spine when he eagerly complied. “Good boy,” Qui-Gon praised, stroking over Obi-Wan’s flank as he canted his hips up with a needy whine. 

“ _ Qui _ ,” he said softly, Qui-Gon preened at the small nickname.

“Now, I believe you also said something about me licking your pretty hole until you were covered in beard burn, is that something you want?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan whined and shoved his hips back in invitation. “I need you to use your words, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon replied, though he did let a hand fall to Obi-Wan’s ass and knead the plush swell. 

“ _ God _ Qui yes, yes please,” Obi-Wan whimpered, but Qui-Gon wasn’t quite done. 

“In that case, I’m going to tell you what I plan to do to you, and you’re going to tell me if you want it,” Qui-Gon said, moving to sit between Obi-Wan’s splayed legs. “And if you don’t want it, then you tell me that, and I’ll find a way to drive you out of your mind that you  _ do _ want, understand?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan squeaked out. 

“I want to do exactly what I just said and lick your hole until you’re all read from my beard, if you’re good, I’ll fuck you on my tongue, your little hole should be able to take that. And then, after you’ve made a mess of the bedsheets, I’m going to flip you over, take myself in hand and cover you in my come.”

After a moment of squirming back towards him, Obi-Wan seemed to remember what Qui-Gon had asked of him and replied: “Yes,  _ yes _ , Qui-Gon please.”

“Good boy,” Qui-Gon praised, before settling comfortably behind Obi-Wan - he intended to be there for a considerable amount of time - before taking one of Obi-Wan’s ass cheeks in each hand, squeezing and pulling them apart so that he could see Obi-Wan’s entrance, still pink and tender from the night before. 

“You took me so well last night, opened up so beautifully for me,” Qui-Gon murmured, tracing a thick finger over his fluttering hole, Obi-Wan just owned inarticulate. “You’re hungry for more though aren’t you. You’ll have to get used to me before I can fuck you over and over like I want, do you want that too Obi-Wan?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan groaned into the pillow, hitching his hips back against Qui-Gon’s finger, but Qui-Gon denied him what he was chasing easily. 

“I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagine,” Qui-Gon mused, his cock throbbing as he bent down and rubbed his beard over one of Obi-Wan’s cheeks, Obi-Wan making soft, anticipatory gasps. “Hold yourself open for me.”

Obi-Wan obeyed without question, settling his weight on his shoulders as he reached back and exposed himself to Qui-Gon, the older man enjoying the sight for a few moments, just until Obi-Wan began to squirm again, before ducking his head down and licking a stripe from Obi-Wan’s balls up to his hole. 

Qui-gon started chaste - if anything about this particular act could be considered chaste - by dropping simple kisses against Obi-Wan’s hole, waiting until he was rutting back against Qui-Gon’s face before changing to open-mouthed kisses. 

“Qui, please, please I want - ” Obi-Wan begged, voice breaking off after minutes continued to pass without Qui-Gon doing more than kissing him. 

“Patience pet, there’s a good boy,” Qui-Gon soothed, smiling into his kisses as he felt Obi-Wan’s legs shaking already. 

Unable to deny him for long, on the next kiss Qui-Gon parted his lips and flattened his tongue, laving a wet stripe over Obi-Wan’s hole, making him clench and roll his hips. Wrapping his hands around Obi-Wan’s hips, sparing a thought at just how far around his waist they went, Qui-Gon began licking at him in earnest, making the younger man wet and slick, but not penetrating him yet. 

Obi-Wan’s hips rucked back against Qui-Gon’s face, letting out a strangled moan when Qui-Gon let his tongue toy around his rim, flicking and dipping just far enough inside to tug, his hands on Obi-Wan’s hips forced to hold him steady as he shook. He let his tongue swirl around Obi-Wan’s hole without pressing in for a few more minutes before settling back to look, Obi-Wan letting out a needy keening noise as Qui-Gon pulled away. 

“Look at you,” Qui-Gon said, reaching a hand down and trailing teasing fingers over the skin between Obi-Wan’s cheeks and around his twitching hole, raw and reddened from his beard, Obi-Wan whimpering as he rubbed at the sensitive skin. “This what you wanted?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Obi-Wan breathed, moaning when Qui-Gon ran his blunt nails over the red skin. 

“Why?” 

“I want to f-feel you, for  _ days _ . Stretched from your cock and raw from your beard,” Obi-Wan whimpered and Qui-Gon knew he was blushing, even without looking, even while he held himself open for Qui-Gon’s eyes and mouth. 

“Oh Obi-Wan, you’re so needy,” Qui-Gon groaned, “you’re so  _ good _ . Do you know what I’ll do when you can’t feel me anymore?”

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, whining as he felt Qui-Gon’s breath ghost over his hole again. 

“I’ll put you back on my cock, stretch you out and fuck you full again, and when you’ve come, I’ll get you hard again by kissing this sweet hole again.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Obi-Wan begged, sounding like the noise had been ripped from deep in his throat. 

“Anything you want,” Qui-Gon promised, ducking back in and pressing the tip of his tongue into Obi-Wan’s hole. 

He was still loose enough from Qui-Gon’s cock the night before and relaxed enough from Qui-Gon’s mouth that he could push his tongue in as far as he could, burying his nose against Obi-Wan and making the younger man cry out loud enough for Qui-Gon to be glad he didn’t have any immediate neighbours. Sensing what Obi-Wan wanted, Qui-Gon started fucking him on his tongue in earnest, eating him out with more enthusiasm than anything he’d ever done in his life.

“Yes, yes,” Obi-Wan chanted, rutting back against Qui-Gon’s face as his big hands held Obi-Wan’s hips tight, helping him ride Qui-Gon’s face, his tongue as deep in Obi-Wan’s ass as it could be, plunging in and out with every one of Obi-Wan’s movements. 

He could tell that Obi-Wan was getting close, his muscles fluttering around Qui-Gon’s tongue, the way he was pushing back and desperately trying to get more. Qui-gon reached forward and wrapped a hand around Obi-Wan’s smaller cock, wetting it with the precome pratically dripping from the time and pumping it quickly. 

With a garbled shout, Obi-Wan’s ass tightened around Qui-Gon’s tongue and his cock spurted between his fingers. Qui-Gon worked him through it, stroking him with increasingly gentle strokes of both his hand and tongue as Obi-Wan went. Qui-Gon caught him before he could collapse into his own wet spot, turning him on his back and setting him down on a clean part of bedding.

“Please,” Obi-Wan panted, sounding exhausted and half asleep. 

“Please what?” Qui-Gon asked, with an amused smile, wondering what someone who looked so comfortable could possibly want. 

“Please do what you said you would,” Obi-Wan said, biting at his lips, bashful despite his debauched state. 

“And what was that?” Qui-Gon asked, laughing lowly at Obi-Wan’s pout. “I just can’t quite remember,” he continued, as if his painfully hard cock wasn’t sincerely reminding him. 

“Come on me,” Obi-Wan whispered, reaching a jelly-like arm out and wrapping a loose fist around Qui-Gon’s cock. 

With what he suspected was a feral smile, Qui-Gon trapped Obi-Wan’s hand, wrapping his own much larger fist around Obi-Wan’s, forcing him to take a tighter grip on his cock and began jerking himself quickly with Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan whimpered with what could only be delight at the way he was being used, and looking up with big, sated eyes, biting his lower lip, beautiful body spread out beneath him, Qui-Gon didn’t stand a chance, especially with how long he had been hard now. 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Qui-Gon grunted, hips stuttering as he shot thick ropes of come onto Obi-Wan’s pale chest, using Obi-Wan’s hand to wring out every drop, mesmerised by the way they painted Obi-Wan’s chest, one streak landing over his nipples, another on his flat stomach, another on his sternum, the final dripples squeeze out and dripping down onto Obi-Wan’s spent cock. If he were a younger man, Qui-Gon was sure the sight alone would be enough to make his cock perk back up, but instead, after committing the sight to memory, Qui-Gon collapsed beside Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan immediately shuffled closer, slinging an arm and leg over Qui-Gon and cuddling into his side. Qui-Gon smiled and brought his arm around Obi-Wan, stroking up and down his back. 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said gently, after a few seconds, trying to get up, only for Obi-Wan to hold him tighter.

“Mmm?” He made a disgruntled hum.

“Let me up.”

“No.”

“I’ll be right back, I promise, but you’re going to get very uncomfortable if you stay like that for much longer,” Qui-Gon said, gesturing gently to the come cooling and drying all over his skin. Obi-Wan blushed deeply, and reluctantly let Qui-Gon up. 

“Can I use your shower?” He asked, looking a little embarrassed, sitting up now. 

“If you prefer, but I was going to get a washcloth and clean you up so that you could rest a little longer, without being uncomfortable. Would you like that?” Qui-gon explained, and when Obi-Wan nodded shyly, Qui-Gon disappeared into the en suite. 

Coming back with the promised warm flannel, Obi-Wan went pliant and let Qui-Gon clean the come from his skin, humming and blushing away with utter contentment as Qui-Gon pampered him. He slid back into bed beside Obi-Wan and glanced over at the clock, it was already nine, but he figured they could both afford a little longer. 

They dozed for a while, Obi-Wan gradually waking up instead of gradually falling asleep, while Qui-Gon read quietly, holding the younger man close. Eventually, Obi-Wan stretched and sat up muzzily. 

“I need to get up,” Obi-Wan sighed, looking over at the clock. “I have to be at the library soon.”

“The shower is all yours,” Qui-Gon said, resisting the urge to say  _ stay stay with me instead _ , lest he follow it up with something ridiculous about looking after Obi-Wan, stopping him having to work two jobs.

“You could join me,” Obi-Wan said, with a slow smile, Qui-Gon chuckled lowly.

“I need more than twenty minutes,” Qui-Gon answered, trying not to cringe at the stark reminder of how much older than his lover he was. On second thought, lover seemed a little hasty, it was one thing to talk in the throws of passion about next times, he wouldn’t jump the gun and assume there actually was a next time. 

If Qui-Gon wanted to survive this, then he needed to be as zen as possible, whatever Obi-Wan wanted was fine, it had to be. However much Obi-Wan wanted, Qui-Gon would give him. And if that turned out to be nothing beyond what had already happened, then Qui-Gon would smile and step back.

Qui-Gon left Obi-Wan to enjoy the shower, ignoring his heated look, as if in invitation, as he stepped into the bathroom, in favour of heading to the kitchen, where he began a batch of blueberry pancakes, not bothering to pretend to himself that he wasn’t trying to give Obi-Wan a reason to come back to him again. 

Obi-Wan fell upon the pancakes with a ravenous hunger that made Qui-Gon laugh, and all too soon, he was standing in his doorway with Obi-Wan.

“We should do this again,” Obi-Wan said, impish smile firmly on his face as he stole a kiss from Qui-Gon, effectively covering his pause. ‘This’, Qui-Gon could only assume meant rolling into bed together and Obi-Wan leaving after breakfast but before anything that could be considered  _ more _ . Qui-Gon tempered his disappointment - after all, he hadn’t even expected Obi-Wan to want ‘this’ again, and if he could have him for more nights than he thought, then Qui-Gon wasn’t going to complain, Obi-Wan was young, he understood - and flashed Obi-Wan a smile in return. 

“You did have quite the list last night, could take us a while to work through it,” Qui-Gon said, enjoying the deep red blush that engulfed Obi-Wan. 

“The whole list?” 

“Some of them are going to require a bit of a conversation first. But if you want, then yes.”  _ Anything you want _ Qui-Gon didn’t say, though he was sure it was written all over his face.

“Yes, please,” Obi-Wan said, before getting a sly look even around his red cheeks, and adding: “ _ sir _ .”

“How am I ever going to keep up with you?” Qui-Gon laughed, shaking his head, though in the hour that had passed since their morning tumble, his cock did flare at the term falling past Obi-Wan’s lips. 

For a moment, he entertained the idea of pulling Obi-Wan back to the sofa, bending him over the arm of it and eating him out, just like he’d talked about the night before, then making him come a third time. But Qui-Gon shook it away, Obi-Wan had likely had enough of him for now, and smothering him with more attention would probably only draw Obi-Wan’s attention to things it was best he didn’t know, like the fact that Qui-Gon never wanted him to leave. 

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Obi-Wan replied, biting his lip, before glancing up at the clock. “I really do have to go.”

“Of course,” Qui-Gon said, not letting his disappointment show on his face, he knew Obi-Wan had a busy schedule, and even if he didn’t, he was not obligated to stay here and keep an old man company. 

“You know, everything’s been so hectic lately, I really needed this, thank you,” Obi-Wan smiled and Qui-Gon shared it, if all he was allowed to be for Obi-Wan was a convenient way to blow off some steam then he would at least made sure he was a damn  _ good _ way for him to blow off steam, and make sure he avoided adding to the young man’s stress. 

“You’re not the only one who had fun, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said with a laugh, Obi-Wan chuckling softly, lingering in the doorway. 

“Well, good. I’ll see you soon?” 

“Bright and early monday morning, unless you find more kittens to save,” Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan chewed on his lip for a moment more, before stretching up on his toes and pressing a chaste kiss to Qui-Gon’s mouth.

“Bye.” Of all things, he was blushing again. 

#

During the day, life continued remarkably normally, though markedly improved. Qui-Gon’s day to day life barely changed, was hardly able to, given how busy Obi-Wan’s days were. But there were little changes, like the way Obi-Wan would shut the door behind himself and treat Qui-Gon to a peck on the lips when they met up for their weekly hour of studying in Qui-Gon’s office, sweet and suggestive text messages sent sporadically, and the way his hand will linger more than it used to when they touch innocently during the day.

Obi-Wan's subtlety whenever they were around other students and professors was enough to tell Qui-Gon what he wanted to know; that Obi-Wan wanted to keep this quiet, just between the two of them, that it wasn’t going to be forever. He tried to keep the nagging, negative voice that told him it was because Obi-Wan was embarrassed to be seen with someone as old as him at bay. They probably shouldn’t strut around the university hand in hand anyway, Qui-Gon still hadn’t looked up the universities policies, and if Obi-Wan wasn’t interested in anyone beyond the two of them knowing, then Qui-gon figured it didn’t particularly matter either. 

So Qui-Gon’s days changed very little. The nights however, changed considerably, with Obi-Wan spending the night with increasing frequency, Qui-Gon impossibly glad every time Obi-Wan showed up on his doorstep, instead of going back to his small flat. Obi-Wan seemed to discover, with growing confidence, that he really was welcome at Qui-Gon’s home whenever he wanted to be there, despite Qui-Gon remaining stoically nonchalant about his desire to  _ keep _ him there, and ended up sleeping in Qui-Gon’s arms, fucked out and sated, more often than he didn’t. 

Another change to Qui-Gon’s life, was that he hadn’t had this much sex in at least thirty years, possibly  _ ever _ . There were certain perks to a young lover, and Qui-Gon felt like his own libido had woken up from a particularly long nap, mostly he just enjoyed spoiling Obi-Wan, giving the younger man three orgasms to his own one had been a particular point of pride, which also served to distract himself - and hopefully Obi-Wan - from just how much older than him Qui-Gon was. And his sweet Obi-Wan had turned out to be entirely insatiable. 

The third time Obi-Wan had wound up in his bed, begging this time for Qui-Gon to tie him up, deny him, take him over his knee,  _ anything _ , Qui-Gon had fucked him through two orgasms, before curling Obi-Wan up in his arms, waited for both their minds to wake back up again, before coaxing a conversation out of Obi-Wan. 

“They’re things that I’m  _ more  _ than happy to do for you, but you need to tell me exactly what you want,” Qui-Gon murmured, dropping a kiss to Obi-Wan’s head, tucked under his chin. “Or even if you want them at all. It’s perfectly normal to fantasise about things in the heat of passion that you don’t actually want.”

“No, um, I do. Want them, that is,” Obi-Wan replied, awkwardly, bashfully. Qui-Gon bit down on a soft smile. 

“Which parts?” 

“All of it?” Obi-Wan responded, hiding his face in Qui-Gon’s neck.

“I’m afraid I need a little more detail than that. You’ve asked me to spank you, I would love to see your little ass all rosy red, but I would only be comfortable doing so with my hand.”

“I would only want your hand, I don’t want to actually get hurt,” Obi-Wan explained, his desires lining up with Qui-Gon’s own. 

“Would you want it to sting then, or would you prefer just little lovetaps?” 

“I want it to sting, I just don’t want to be cut at all or bruised much from it,” Obi-Wan replied, gradually gaining confidence talking about these things, Qui-Gon running his fingertips up and down his back.

“I can do that for you. And the plug?”

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan half whined, half laughed into Qui-Gon’s chest, but eventually he answered and they established exactly what it was Obi-Wan wanted.

Qui-Gon didn’t address the things that Obi-Wan said that he wanted that would involve Qui-Gon fucking him bare, he had no idea if Obi-Wan was sleeping exclusively with Qui-Gon, but they had certainly not said as much. He had no desire to trigger a potentially awkward - potentially  _ hurtful _ \- conversation, not when he was doing so well at being resolutely  _ zen _ about the whole thing, which he mostly achieved by drowning himself in Obi-Wan and not thinking past the next day.

Despite having had two orgasms wrung out of him in the last hour, when Qui-Gon started talking about Obi-Wan’s desire to kneel under his desk and warm his cock for as long as he pleased, Qui-Gon felt the now familiar feeling of Obi-Wan’s hard cock against his thigh. 

“Insatiable,” Qui-Gon murmured, feeling the smile Obi-Wan was pressing into his skin, cheeky, as he started rolling his hips against Qui-Gon, riding his leg. Qui-Gon couldn’t deny his own arousal, but unlike his younger lover, his cock was still spent and soft. Thankfully, he had already long since proved to Obi-Wan that he got  _ plenty _ of enjoyment out of making Obi-Wan fall apart again and again.

“Mmm just one more?”

“Greedy. Ask me nicely.”

“Please, sir, make me come again,” Obi-Wan begged so prettily, stretching his arms back up around Qui-gon’s neck and nuzzling in lazily.

Qui-Gon dipped two fingers back inside Obi-Wan, still loose and wet, and fingered his hole lazily, encouraging him to rut his cock against Qui-Gon’s abdominals, leaving a wet trail against his skin. Whispering filthy things into Obi-Wan’s ear as the room filled up with the sloppy sounds of Obi-Wan’s hole, Qui-Gon used his free hand to play with Obi-Wan’s - delightfully sensitive - nipples, before sucking light marks into Obi-Wan’s neck. 

Obi-Wan whimpered when he came, jerking from oversensitivity as Qui-Gon milked a third orgasm out of him, mostly dry and entire body shaking with it before he collapsed against Qui-Gon, sighing happily when Qui-Gon left his fingers inside for a few moments more. 

When Obi-Wan curled up with him to sleep, freshly washed and adorably swamped in one of Qui-Gon’s old shirts - and Qui-Gon had to not think about how much he liked  _ that _ \- Qui-Gon wondered how he had managed to get so lucky.

#

“ _ Qui-Gon _ ,” Obi-Wan gasped, he was always noisy, usually Qui-Gon rather liked it, right now it could get them in trouble, even if it was highly unlikely. 

“Do I need to gag you after all?” Qui-Gon asked, ramming his hips up into Obi-Wan again, shoving him into the bookshelves with the force of his thrusts.

“Oh god, yes,” Obi-Wan whined, precariously loudly. The library had technically closed an hour ago, but a student sneaking in to pull an all-nighter wasn’t unheard of, so Qui-Gon made quick work of his tie, balling it up and pressing it between Obi-Wan’s lips. 

“If you need to stop, tap my hand,” Qui-Gon whispered into his ear, linking one of their hands together and pinning it against some textbooks. With his other Qui-Gon hitched up Obi-Wan’s leg, gripping him under the knee and spreading him wide, driving into him deep and hard each time. 

Obi-Wan whimpered constantly around the tie, he only had one foot on the floor, forced up onto his tip toes each time Qui-Gon thrust into him. His jeans were pushed down just far enough to give Qui-Gon access, Qui-Gon himself fully dressed, nothing more than an undone fly, just enough to get his cock out and into Obi-Wan’s hot little hole. The book’s Obi-Wan was carrying to reshelve were underfoot, long since dropped to the floor, Qui-Gon had meant not to step on them, but it was harder to care buried so deeply in his lover.

Obi-Wan’s eager cock wasn't even out of his underwear, just pulled down at the back, exposing his ass, it was leaking - Obi-Wan was always so wet - darkening the cotton. Qui-Gon covered him with his hand, gave Obi-Wan something to rut against. When Obi-Wan came his cry was muffled by the tie, and the desperate sound had Qui-Gon gripping him tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises as he filled the condom. 

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose as Qui-Gon righted his trousers, throwing the used condom into a nearby bin and zipping himself up.

“Uncomfortable?” Qui-Gon asked, well-aware that Obi-Wan had a quickly cooling unpleasant mess in his boxer briefs. 

“A bit, probably better than the alternative though,” Obi-Wan said, looking sheepishly at the bookshelf. 

“My house is closer, want me to take you home so you can clean up?” Qui-Gon asked, brushing his nose gently along Obi-Wan’s cheek, pleased when Obi-Wan leant into the touch.

“My shift doesn’t technically end for another ten minutes,” Obi-Wan said regretfully. 

“And that matters because you’ve been so hard at work for the last half an hour…?” Qui-Gon teased, nibbling at his jaw. 

“Well, I was hard,” Obi-Wan seemed unable to resist the joke, laughing as Qui-Gon groaned. 

They did close up the library and leave, living on the edge and skipping the last seven minutes of Obi-Wan’s shift, Qui-Gon treating them to a taxi in the name of getting Obi-Wan clean. He did follow Obi-Wan into the shower this time, and cursed his past self for ever passing up on the opportunity to have Obi-Wan soaking and writhing under the spray.

When they finished, Qui-Gon towelled Obi-Wan off, the younger man’s clothes were already in the wash, so Qui-Gon found some of his own clothes, sleep pants and a t-shirt for a band that probably hadn’t made new music for twenty years. The clothes swamped Obi-Wan, shirt gaping around the neck, pyjama pants held up by an overworked drawstring and folded up at the ankles. The sight of Obi-Wan absolutely swimming in his clothes woke up something raw and longing in Qui-Gon’s chest. 

#

Qui-Gon’s first real test came a full month after he and Obi-Wan had begun doing whatever it was they were doing. Qui-Gon had no idea how to label his relationship with Obi-Wan, reluctant to use the word casual for Obi-Wan, especially as from his end at least, it was anything but. 

It was the dreaded early morning lecture that no one but Obi-Wan wanted to be at, and Qui-Gon was on his third cup of coffee - not his favourite way to wake up since Obi-Wan had barrelled even deeper into his life and presented him with various other, far more enjoyable, ways to wake up than a bitter drink Qui-Gon barely even liked. But he was on his third cup of coffee because occasionally - and somehow, it had only become occasionally - Obi-Wan didn’t come over. 

Last night had been one of those veenings, where Qui-Gon was newly, acutely, aware of just how empty his life was when Obi-Wan wasn’t in it. If it weren’t for Pippa still requiring a lot of attention, he imagined he would have sat around staring at his phone wondering if Obi-Wan would call, rather than any other much more dignified pursuit he could be undertaking. 

He knew Obi-Wan wasn’t going to call anyway, as he was attending a birthday party being thrown by Bant, and he was hardly going to distract himself from a lively party full of people his own age by calling Qui-Gon. And more to the point, Qui-Gon wanted Obi-Wan to enjoy himself, get drunk at parties, do questionable things, to be young and do all the ill-advised things people in their twenties could get away with. 

Despite this, it did mean Qui-Gon felt a little grumpier than usual due to the coffee and lack of Obi-Wan. What he felt when Obi-Wan stumbled - albeit gracefully, as was his nature - into the room just a few shades shy of being late - which was not in his nature - wearing the same clothes has he had been the day before, was much harder to articulate. 

There could be a hundred perfectly good reasons why Obi-Wan was still in yesterday’s shirt. And Qui-Gon firmly reminded himself that the one his undergrads were snickering about, a  _ walk of shame _ as they called it, was also a perfectly good reason. Neither of them had initiated a conversation over whether or not theirs was an open relationship, and just because Qui-Gon had no interest in pursuing anybody else - possibly ever - didn’t mean that his twenty five year old lover was obligated to do the same. It was fine. 

Although arguably Qui-Gon himself was not fine, as he found himself snapping at his students for the smallest of missteps all morning. He chided himself, he was supposed to be zen, it wasn’t fair to take it out on his students, even if they were a bunch of disgusting gossips. Qui-Gon had heard enough about the rumour concerning Obi-Wan and someone called  _ Satine _ , by the end of the lecture that he was ready to shred the combined papers of everyone in the class and fail them all. 

He didn’t do it, and berated himself for the thought. The gaping ache in his chest was however, a stark reminder of why he had been avoiding this precise entanglement for years. Qui-Gon was ashamed to say that he avoided Obi-Wan after the class ended, rushing off with something muttered about Pippa and cursing himself for being a liar as well as pathetic. 

Spending the rest of the day stewing in some combination of melancholy and self-flagellation, by the time the evening was drawing in, Qui-Gon had convinced himself that Obi-Wan had moved on, had found someone else to warm his bed, and that Qui-Gon should be happy for him. So when the doorbell rang, he genuinely had no idea who it could be, and his mouth hung open dumbly when he saw Obi-Wan there. 

“Hey,” Obi-Wan smiled, he’d changed by now, in a clean blue polo shirt, hair less squashed than it had been that morning.

“Hi,” Qui-Gon replied automatically, a pause followed and a worried furrow appeared in Obi-Wan’s brow. 

“Can I come in? Sorry, god I shouldn’t have assumed,” Obi-Wan started stammering in the time it took Qui-Gon to gather himself together, “you probably have company already. I really should have asked first I’m sorry -”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon managed to stop Obi-Wan’s increasing babble. “Of course you’re welcome, you’re always welcome. I was just surprised.” 

Obi-Wan’s smile returned as Qui-Gon reached out to squeeze his upper arms and draw him into the house and a warm embrace, realising a second too late how embarrassing it would be if Obi-Wan was there to break off their arrangement, but Obi-Wan only cuddled closer, so he felt he was safe for another day at least.

“I didn’t see you much today, I wondered if something was wrong,” Obi-Wan muttered into Qui-Gon’s neck. 

“No, nothing was wrong,” Qui-Gon replied, justifying to himself that nothing was wrong at that precise moment, at least. “You on the other hand seem stressed.” He could feel it in the tight set of his shoulders, though for a moment about making Obi-Wan dinner, settling down together with a glass of wine for a relaxing evening. 

“Mm. think you can help me unwind?” Obi-Wan teased with a wink. 

“I think I can do that for you,” Qui-Gon replied easily, less easily dismissing the plans his fanciful mind had gone and made without his consent. 

Scooping him up, Qui-Gon carried an eager Obi-Wan back to his bedroom, remembering, as Obi-Wan started rolling his hips against him, that he had spent most of the day believing he was never going to have this again. It woke something inside of him, possessive and greedy, and his hands were tight and rough on Obi-Wan’s skin, tearing at his clothes. 

Obi-Wan moaned raggedly as Qui-Gon forewent the bed, instead pinning him up against his bedroom wall only releasing Obi-Wan long enough to rid him of every article of clothing he was wearing, while barely sparing himself time to undo his trousers and reach for his cock. If he was wild, then Obi-Wan was desperate, legs tight around Qui-Gon’s waist, clinging on with every muscle and moaning out  _ yes _ as he realised Qui-Gon had no intention of undressing himself any more. 

Pawing in a nearby draw for the lube and condoms Qui-Gon now kept well stocked, he slicked his fingers and ruthlessly fingered Obi-Wan open. He knew Obi-Wan liked it rough on occasion, and if the way his nails were scratching over Qui-Gon’s shirt was any indication, then this was exactly the kind of rough Obi-Wan wanted. With three of his fingers in Obi-Wan’s ass, he was begging for Qui-Gon to fuck him, pulling at his hair and trying to find leverage to grind down on his hand. 

Quickly rolling on the condom and coating himself in lube, Qui-Gon obliged, holding Obi-Wan tight and slamming into him. 

“No one else can make you feel like this, can they,” Qui-Gon growled, even though he knew he shouldn’t, as he ploughed into Obi-Wan. 

“No, ah, no they can’t,” Obi-Wan agreed readily, deliriously. 

“You’re mine, you belong on  _ my _ cock,” Qui-Gon continued, slamming Obi-Wan back against the wall on every thrust, making the photo frames shake. 

“Yes, yes! Nothing stretches me like you, never been fucked this well, please Qui,” Obi-Wan gasped, his cock dripping with precome and bouncing against his belly, unable to get a hand around it as he clung to Qui-Gon. 

“You’re going to come on my cock or not at all,” Qui-Gon growled, loving the way Obi-Wan was already reduced to a panting, whining mess. Without thought, Qui-Gon buried his head in Obi-Wan’s nek and sucked a dark bruise into his neck. 

Hoisting Obi-Wan up and changing his angle just right - well versed now with where Obi-Wan’s sweet spot was - Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan positively writhing, begging incoherently with pleases and a litany of Qui-Gon’s name. 

“I wish I could come inside you, fill you up with my come and then slide a plug into your loose hole, make you keep my come there, mark you up on the inside,” Qui-Gon panted surprised that he was even able to string a sentence together, but glad that he could when his words combined with his cock driving into Obi-Wan relentlessly had him screaming out and spurting hot between them without a hand laid on him. 

Qui-Gon wanted to fuck him through it, but obi-Wan pushed him off, and for a moment Qui-Gon thought he had made a terrible mistake, said too much, turn Obi-Wan off, but then the younger man was dropping to his knees, peeling the condom off Qui-Gon’s cock and swallowing him down. He took too much and choked, throat constricting around Qui-Gon, but he barely pulled back, bobbing his head as far as he could and working his hand on the rest. He reached up, grabbing Qui-Gon’s hand and fixing it firmly in his hair, encouraging Qui-Gon to fuck into his mouth. 

Obi-Wan could tell when Qui-Gon was close, pulled sloppily off his dick and stroked him with a tight grip, shutting his eyes and letting Qui-Gon’s release paint his pretty face in thick white lines. 

Somehow, Qui-Gon managed to haul them both to the bed, depositing Obi-Wan’s blissed out body there before forcing his own exhausted frame to find a flannel and clean Obi-Wan off. He could look at Obi-Wan covered in come all day and not tire of it, but they were both likely to want to rest, and for that Obi-Wan deserved to be clean. 

“That was amazing,” Obi-Wan sighed, tucking himself into Qui-Gon’s side when he joined him on the bed. “I’ve never seen you like that before, all possessive.”

“Was it alright?” Qui-Gon asked, nervous. 

“What, me coming without you even having to touch my cock wasn’t enough of a giveaway?” Obi-Wan teased. 

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I,” Obi-Wan replied, and Qui-Gon felt a frisson of pride, maybe all the time he could give Obi-Wan things he couldn’t find in other partners, he would stay. “What got you like that?”

“Nothing,” Qui-Gon replied, too quickly. “Just a frustrating day. What about you, do you feel better?” He continued, when Obi-Wan turned a questioning look on him, no doubt remember Qui-Gon’s claim earlier that he was fine.

“Much. I had the most horrible morning ever,” Obi-Wan complained. “Not your lecture of course, but I was at that party - Bant’s birthday, you remember - and she got herself absolutely paralytic, and  _ someone _ had to look after her - and I wasn’t entirely sober myself mind you, at the start anyway - so I ended up spending all night, and I really mean  _ all night _ , trying to keep her out of trouble and the first few hours of the morning making sure she didn’t die and kept all her vomit in the toilet. I didn’t even manage to change before making it to class. I  _ barely  _ made it to class.”

“Wait,” Qui-Gon said, sitting up a little straighter. “You were with Bant all night?”

“Yes? Why where did you…” Obi-Wan trailed off, but he was too perceptive for Qui-Gon’s own good, and before he could make up a convincing lie, tentative realisation came over Obi-Wan’s features. “I was wearing the same shirt this morning, did you think I’d slept with someone else?” He said gently, a little sadly.

“No I. Well. I wasn’t sure, and decided it was none of my business.” 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan looked down, picked at the bedding but put no space between them. “You know, or well I guess you don’t, I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I mean, where would I find the time, and everyone would pale in comparison to you anyway,” he added with a playful grope of Qui-Gon’s soft cock. “Are you, sleeping with anyone else?” He added, haltingly. 

“No,” Qui-Gon answered, probably too quickly. “I can barely keep up with you,” he added with a tease, swatting Obi-Wan’s hand away from his cock, though not with any real intent. He had noticed over the last month, that Obi-Wan occasionally seemed to like to play with his cock when it was soft and unlikely to get hard again for a while. Obi-Wan had been supremely embarrassed when he had brought it up, but ended smiling and blushing away when Qui-Gon had made it clear that he didn’t mind one bit. 

“Can I ask then - and of course you can say no, I don’t know if it’s too much. But if neither of us are sleeping with anyone else, then do you think if we got tested we could forgo the condoms?”

“Of course,” Qui-Gon smiled, leaning down to kiss Obi-Wan, wondering how half an hour had taken him from thinking he was never going to have Obi-Wan as anything other than a TA again, to this conversation. “I’ve wanted to come inside you for a long time,” he added, just to see the deep flush run down Obi-Wan’s chest.

“That’s very possessive of you. Wait,” Obi-Wan said, sitting up straighter in the bed. “Were you jealous today?”

“What, no, I,” Qui-Gon started, entirely obvious to Obi-Wan who’s face stretched out in a grin. 

“You  _ were _ ,” Obi-Wan laughed. “This is why you like it so much when I wear your clothes isn’t it? Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he added, and then proceeded to continue to tease Qui-Gon until he wrestled him down into the bed and playfully smacked him over the head with a pillow to shut him up. 

It was still early in the evening, so Qui-Gon did end up cooking dinner for them both and having the relaxing evening on the sofa, playing with Pippa and drinking one of Qui-Gon’s best bottles of wine. 

In the morning, Obi-Wan showered and stole one of Qui-Gon’s jumpers, making it look far better than Qui-Gon had ever managed as he grabbed a slice of toast and headed out for the day.

Qui-Gon himself felt like a weight had been lifted, though they appeared to still be casual with what they were doing, he did at least have confirmation that for now, he was the only one Obi-Wan was with. Though he longed for more, it was a welcome balm, though it did make him dread the end of the school year, ever encroaching, and bringing with it the reality that when he obtained his PhD Obi-Wan would move on from the university, and Qui-gon wouldn’t be so convenient anymore. Forcing down absurd plans to try and woo Obi-Wan that would likely only send him running early, Qui-Gon resolved to make the most of the remaining four months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos mean the world! Stay safe, stay sane, stay awesome everyone! Next update either tomorrow or Sunday with any luck :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more smut?? Apparently?? This was not how I envisioned this fic going. But hey-ho there's also a bit of plot at the end, enjoy!

“You’ve been working for three hours straight, I think it’s time you take a break,” Qui-Gon said, watching Obi-Wan currently hunched over his old mahogany desk. It was a sight that had become more and more common in his house, as important deadlines had begun to loom for Obi-Wan.

“This section just isn’t flowing,” he said frustration seething out of his voice, and Qui-Gon wondered if he shouldn’t have extracted him from his work an hour ago. 

“I am sure it is near - if not completely - perfect,” Qui-Gon replied, resting his hands on Obi-Wan’s tense shoulders and squeezing. 

“You have no idea, you haven’t read it,” Obi-Wan argued, Qui-Gon had offered to, but they’d both agreed that it would probably be grounds for an accusation for preferential treatment, and so he hadn’t read any more of Obi-Wan’s work than was mandated by the course. 

“No, but I’ve read parts of your thesis, and in the last six months I’ve not been able to find a single fault.”

“Yes well, you’re biased,” Obi-Wan said, though he relaxed back a little in the chair. 

“Very,” Qui-Gon agreed. “So I had Mace look it over as well, he couldn’t find anything either.” He added, and that earned him a smile.

“I’m sorry. I know this probably isn’t how you envisioned spending your Saturday,” Obi-Wan sighed guiltily, turning his head and nuzzling into Qui-Gon’s stomach. “Let me make it up to you?” He asked, looking up at Qui-Gon through his lashes. 

“We can do that if you like. But I think you could do with getting out of the house for a little while,” Qui-Gon said, Obi-Wan pouted at him. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

“Fine,” Obi-Wan huffed, and Qui-Gon worried for a split second that he had made a mistake, forgotten the bounds of this relationship, but then Obi-Wan stood from the chair and stretched. “What did you have in mind?”

“I thought we could go for a run.”

“I’m not sure if I could run ten miles right now,” Obi-Wan grimaced, Qui-Gon knew he’d been having trouble with his back from sitting so long; he really should invest in a better chair for his desk. 

“We won’t go that far, a run for pleasure, rather than fitness,” Qui-Gon smiled, Obi-Wan looked at him like he was an alien. 

“Qui,  _ no one _ runs for pleasure,” he said very seriously, making Qui-gon laugh. 

“Well  _ I _ do. But we could go play tennis, if you prefer?”

“No, I have that match in ten days time and my shoulder has been playing up.  Dr Billaba sorted the worst of it last week, but she told me I should stay off the court before the match to make sure.”

“Is it okay now?” Qui-Gon asked, concerned, he had learnt a bit of massage therapy during his youth, in a summer spent on a beach in Bali.

“Could be worse. Dare I say it but I think a run would do me good right now, anything that would distract me from that stupid thesis, and fresh air does sound good.”

“I assure you your thesis is anything but stupid, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon chided, before following Obi-Wan upstairs to change into some suitable jogging clothes. It had been a few weeks, but Qui-Gon still got a thrill out of the fact Obi-Wan kept clothes in his house now, especially as he still put on Qui-Gon’s old shirts as often as his own. 

Obi-Wan gave him a cheeky look as he stripped off and changed right in front of him, wiggling his ass at Qui-Gon and testing his resolve. But Obi-Wan had the heavy look of an active person that had been spending too much time inside lately, so Qui-Gon stood firm, and before long, he was checking that Pippa had everything she needed for an hour on her own, and was locking the door behind them. 

“So where are we going?” Obi-Wan asked, bouncing on his feet to warm up his muscles. 

“Through the park, down to the river and back up?”

“Saving the uphill to last? You’re a masochist.”

“Well if we continue up this hill just so that we can come down it at the end, then we will be running along nothing but roads for an hour.”

“Good point,” Obi-Wan sighed, Qui-Gon would rearrange the geography of the entire town for him if he could. 

They took it easy, Obi-Wan taking a while to get warmed up - and on a pair of much shorter legs - because of the extended periods of time he had spent sitting lately. But when he got moving, his strides started to extend and he was running elegantly as ever. The park was busy, unsurprising for a sunny day, even if it was quite cold out, full of dog walkers, runners and people bundled up in jumpers and coats, reading on the benches that littered the walkway. 

The route down to the river Qui-Gon had always thought particularly beautiful, lined with trees and the old buildings of the original town, stone work full of character and history, even if the cobbles could make the route slightly precarious underfoot. Beside him, Obi-Wan steadily unfurled, the way he held himself taking on an easier look than it had in the last week, despite the fact that he was running. His form was perfect, as it was in most things, and Qui-Gon was pleased to say that he only nearly tripped on the cobblestones once, distracted by looking at him. 

The river itself was high and running fast, indicative of all the rain they had had lately, and as they run along the path next to it he could spell the cool freshness of the water. It was uphill almost the entire way back - such was the case when living in a town with a large river - but Obi-Wan didn’t seem to really notice, and nor did he complain. Running now with a content look on his face, and some sweat on his brow that Qui-Gon found himself wanting to lick off at the first opportunity. 

They slowed down when they reached the park again, cooling off until eventually they were walking the last five minutes back to Qui-Gon’s door, Obi-Wan panting heavily but with a smile affixed to his face.

“No one runs for pleasure, hmm?” Qui-gon teased. 

“Oh shush. Everything hurts and I’m dripping with sweat, it's just the endorphins kicking in.”

“Some might call it a pleasurable feeling,” Qui-Gon commented, opening the door and immediately bending down to pick up a fussing Pippa, glad to see them home. 

“I can think of far better ways to get them pumping,” Obi-Wan laughed back, following Qui-Gon into the house.

“Incorrigible,” Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, far from immune from the look Obi-Wan was giving him, especially when coupled with sweat slipping down his neck and loose running clothes clinging to his skin in interesting places. But currently he has his hands full of fussing kitten, furious at being left alone. “I am sorry, little pip,” Qui-Gon cooed, holding her close to his chest, only looking up when he heard the sound of a shutter and finding Obi-Wan aiming a phone at him.. 

“I’m sorry, it was just too cute for words, I had to preserve it,” Obi-Wan said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. 

“Here,” Qui-Gon said, handing over Pippa when Obi-Wan started looking anxiously back towards his desk, gratified when she started rubbing up against his face, successfully distracting him from the siren call of his thesis. It would already score him a near-perfect mark, but Qui-Gon could understand that it would take Obi-Wan a few more weeks of picking over every word until he accepted that. 

After another hour of playing with Pippa, Obi-Wan declared that they both needed to shower and tugged Qui-Gon upstairs with him. Washing Obi-Wan had become one of his favourite things to do, never turning down the offer to join him in the shower any more, especially when Obi-Wan turned around in his arms and wiggled his ass against his cock, already hard from having Obi-Wan’s slick body under his hands. 

In the heat of the shower, Qui-Gon pushed his cock between Obi-Wan’s legs and fucked his thighs, cockhead nudging against Obi-Wan’s balls on every push, as he held Obi-Wan back against his chest and wrapped a large hand around Obi-Wan’s cock. With a breathless moan, Obi-Wan painted the tiles white, before turning and dropping to his knees, letting Qui-Gon fuck his face until he came down Obi-Wan’s eager throat. 

After their shower, Obi-Wan reluctantly returned to his work. It was unnecessary, but Qui-Gon had done a PhD of his own, understood the years of work and anxiety that went into writing a thesis, and knew that Obi-Wan needed his rituals to keep himself sane in this time, so he left him to it. 

A few hours later, Qui-Gon had hoped that the smell of dinner cooking would pull Obi-Wan from his work, but when it was ready to dish up, Obi-Wan was still furiously crossing out sentences and rewording them. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Qui-Gon said gently, running a hand through Obi-Wan’s hair, he could see the strain in his lover’s neck from most of the day spent over a desk, and when he looked up, the frustration bleeding off of him was palpable. 

“I’m sorry. I’m being such bad company, I’ll make it up to - ”

“Obi-Wan, hush,” Qui-Gon said, firmly but gently, pulling Obi-Wan out of the chair and into his arms as he started to feel him shake with frustration over whatever part of his thesis was giving him such a headache. “You’re not bad company, but you do need to look after yourself, so I think that’s enough for today, do you agree?” Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan nod against him. “Good, now you’re going to sit down and eat dinner, and then I’m going to try and find a way to really help you unwind.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, sagging against him, sounding far more tired than Qui-Gon had realised. “You take such good care of me.”

The dinner was nothing elaborate, just spaghetti, but Obi-Wan fell on it like a starved man, going back for seconds under the amused watch of Qui-Gon. Despite his enthusiasm, by the end of the meal Qui-Gon could still see the tension in his shoulders, and slowly led him to the spacious sofa, settling them both down. 

“I would like to try something,” Qui-Gon started, speaking in a soothing voice and running his palms down Obi-Wan’s tense back. “If you would like.”

“What is it?” Obi-Wan asked, looking up at Qui-Gon with interest. 

“Many of the things you enjoy during sex have made me think you might enjoy some gentle domination,” Qui-Gon said, runnign his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair. 

“I don’t want to be hurt, and I’ve never been into leather,” Obi-Wan replied, cautiously, a little confused. 

“I know, that is not the kind of domination I’m talking about.”

“What then?”

“Well, from the way you are today, I think you might enjoy it if you settled between my legs and softly sucked on my cock while we watch a film.”

“If you wanted a blowjob you only had to ask,” Obi-Wan smiled cheekily and began walking a hand down to Qui-Gon’s waistband, but Qui-Gon caught the hand in his own before it could make it, and kissed his fingers. 

“I don’t mean a blowjob. I mean for you to suckle on my cock for as long as you like, until you start to feel genuinely relaxed. For comfort, rather than gratification, in the short term anyway. I might get hard because of your hot little mouth, I may be soft because of the lack of stimulation, it doesn’t matter because it’s about what you want.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, understanding dawning in his new blush, his pupils undeniably dilating. 

“Do you like that idea?”

“Very much,” Obi-Wan admitted, biting at his lip. “What would happen after?”

“Whatever you want. I can take you to bed when you’re done and we can both go to sleep, you can suck me to make me come and I can make you shake apart as well. I was thinking you might like it if I took you to bed and fucked you nice and deep, and stayed inside you while we slept,” Qui-Gon explained, cock jumping as Obi-Wan’s blush darkened. 

“Yes, please,” Obi-Wan breathed. 

After a small amount of rearranging, Obi-Wan was settled between his legs, choosing to strip himself off and curl up naked while Qui-Gon only pushd his sweats down. Nestling his head against one thigh, Obi-Wan guided Qui-Gon’s half hard cock into his mouth and let it rest there, suckling rhythmically on the head. 

As he expected he would, Qui-Gon got hard for a little while at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s mouth, but Obi-Wan didn’t let himself get distracted and Qui-Gon steadfastly stopped himself from moving his hips, instead looking at the completely contented look that was drawing over Obi-Wan’s face. 

They stayed that way for most of the movie, Qui-Gon paying far more attention to his partner than whatever was going on on screen, at one point thinking Obi-Wan had dozed off from the blissed out look on his face and how steady his breathing had become. Eventually, Obi-Wan pulled off and look up at Qui-Gon with hazy eyes, clearly in that soft, floaty space that Qui-Gon had thought he might be susceptible to. 

When Obi-Wan made grabby hands at him, Qui-gon smiled and gathered him close easily, kissing him thoroughly despite Obi-wan’s slack lips. Making good on his promise, Qui-gon carried him upstairs and deposited him on the bed, never completely dropping contact with him as he found the lube and started working him open. Obi-Wan made soft noises as Qui-Gon fingered him, and his moans were breathier than usual when Qui-Gon slipped his big cock inside him. 

He fucked him gently until they both came, Obi-Wan gasping as he felt Qui-Gon fill him up, falling almost immediately into a content sleep as Qui-Gon made them comfortable and shut his own eyes, still buried inside his lover. 

#

“Love-fifteen.” The umpire called, perched in a white plastic garden chair to the right center of the court; the chances of the university forking out for a proper high chair for the tennis society was very small.

On the court, Obi-Wan bounced on his toes, spinning the racket around in his fist as he stood behind the and waited for his opponent to serve again. If Obi-Wan could break his serve this game, then he would win the match, but Obi-Wan had already been here before in the game before, and the match had dragged into a full three sets. Qui-Gon had spent the last two hours steadfastly ignoring the faint bruises on Obi-Wan’s knees, from where he had spent well over an hour the day before kneeling under Qui-Gon’s desk.

Qui-Gon resisted the urge to call out some support, knowing he would only break Obi-Wan’s concentration if he did so - and earn yet another glare from the umpire and other spectators. Obi-Wan knew he was here, cheering him on, and that was enough. Qui-gon was happy to see Bant and a few other post-grads from the department, as well as a few professors from others that he didn’t recognise, deciding that with their attendance, his own didn’t look too incriminatingly out of place. He still hadn’t read up on the university policies; ignorance was bliss. 

The serve was a fast one, and just out of Obi-Wan’s reach, the ace sailing past him and the umpire calling fifteen all. 

“Come on Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon muttered under his breath.

Obi-Wan landed the next two points, taking the score to fifteen-forty in his favour with a blinding backhand straight down the line and a double fault from the server. But then his opponent managed to land two consecutive points himself with well placed shots, bringing the score up to deuce. Obi-Wan hated deuce, and had bitched about it to Qui-Gon for considerable amounts of time, to the point that Qui-Gon, who had had no idea what the term meant, was now overly familiar with it and also hated it on Obi-Wan’s behalf. 

“Come on Obi-Wan,” Qui-gon called, during the short space of time they were allowed to clap and cheer, Obi-Wan’s eyes found him in the thin crowd and lightened his grim expression a little. Obi-Wan hated deuce. Seeing it happen in front of him, Qui-Gon could see why, Obi-Wan would win a point, taking him up to advantage, but then his opponent would win the next, bringing them back up to deuce, where his momentum carried him through the next point and onto advantage himself, at which point Obi-Wan’s fight to win the match would reassert himself and he’d score instead, bringing them back around to deuce. Deuce, advantage, deuce, advantage; on and on it went until Qui-Gon wanted to find whoever had come up with it and strangled them, even if he could see the logic in the process. 

After the fifth call of deuce, Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan beginning to tense with frustration, but with a deep breath he seemed to release it into the air around him, and went back to bouncing at the base-line, ready to do it five more times if need be. His opponent served and triggered a gruelling rally, with both men throwing themselves across the court to return shots, but after a second lightning fast volley, Obi-Wan won the point. The ball had been moving so fast that Qui-Gon hadn’t noticed it happen, but as Obi-Wan returned to the baseline, he saw him rolling his shoulder awkwardly, trying to flex away a twinge of pain. 

“Come on Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon muttered to himself again, gripping his drink tighter. Usually he would say that Obi-Wan had endurance on his side, but if he had aggravated his shoulder, then time was against him, and the longer the match went on the more likely he was to lose it, as well as do himself more harm than a mild strain. 

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. Obi-Wan’s face sent into a determined line, lips thin with discomfort, and when his opponent served, Obi-Wan thundered the ball back down the inside of the tram line, winning the match in one single shot more. Qui-Gon stood and cheered with the rest of the people supporting Obi-Wan, offering him a warm smile when he caught his eye. 

Obi-Was was called over by his friend, jogging over and accepting their congratulations as Qui-Gon Lingered as subtly as he could around the courts, they’d made loose plans to spend the rest of the day together, although if Obi-Wan decided he would rather go off with his friends he would hardly blame him, the more time that was passing, the harder it was growing for Qui-Gon to remember that they were not together, not really, and not in the way Qui-Gon wanted, so he had no first claim to Obi-Wan’s time, even if he wanted to make the most of him while he had him. 

As it was, after a few minutes of chatting, Obi-Wan extracted himself, searching for a moment until he spotted Qui-Gon and walking over happily. Obi-Wan glanced around when he reached Qui-Gon, but he had positioned himself carefully where it was difficult to be seen, and upon spying no one else watching, Obi-Wan rocked up on his tiptoes and pecked his lips. 

“Here, let me take that,” Qui-God said, taking Obi-Wan’s racket bag off of him. “You looked like you hurt your shoulder during those last few shots.”

“It’s fine,” Obi-Wan lied half-heartedly, sadly not taking Qui-Gon’s hand, but he could understand given that they were out in the open, it was probably for the best, even. 

He had hoped that Obi-Wan was only downplaying his injury because it genuinely wasn’t so bad, but as they walked it became more and more apparent that Obi-Wan’s shoulder was bothering him. He was periodically rolling his shoulder and stretching his arm, and where Obi-Wan usually favoured his right, as they entered the house, he reached for Qui-Gon with his left, tugging him down into a full kiss. 

“Your shoulder is hurting you,” Qui-Gon said when Obi-Wan pulled back from the embrace to take his shoes off. 

“It’s just a strain, it’ll be fine, just uncomfortable for a few days,” Obi-Wan replied, and Qui-Gon had no doubt that he was right, even if he didn’t like it. 

“You could see if Depa can fit you in, she might be able to help you feel better faster.”

“I can’t afford to see her every time I have a strain,” Obi-Wan sighed, sinking back into Qui-Gon’s arms when he wrapped them around Obi-Wan from behind. 

“I can pay for it.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Obi-Wan said,  _ why not,  _ Qui-Gon thought,  _ I want to look after you _ , but managed to keep quiet. “It’ll be sore for a few days, but I’ll be okay without a massage. 

“I could give you a massage,” Qui-Gon murmured, pressing kisses into Obi-Wan’s neck, just to feel him relax. “I did a bit of massage therapy when I was young. I know enough not to make it worse, at least.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan asked, bearing his neck more for Qui-Gon, who hummed out a yes. “Well, I’m hardly going to say no to a chance to get your hands all over me now am I.” He grinned, wiggling back against Qui-Gon. 

Qui-Gon led him upstairs, digging out the - thankfully not out of date - bottle of massage oil he still had in a bathroom cupboard after telling Obi-Wan to undress and lie on the bed. When he came back into the bedroom Obi-Wan had done as he asked, lying on his back and turning to watch as Qui-Gon came back in, his cock not entirely soft against his thigh.

“I think you should get undressed too,” Obi-Wan said with a sultry smile. 

“I was planning on giving you a genuine massage,” Qui-Gon chuckled, but he did as he was bid, stripping off his clothes efficiently as Obi-Wan watched him with a hungry look. 

“I would love that. But I see no reason why the massage can’t have a happy ending,” Obi-Wan replied, impishly.

“Your wish is my command,” Qui-Gon joked, getting the oil and warming it on his hands, pouring a small amount onto Obi-Wan’s chest, kneeling on the bed and getting to work. 

Obi-Wan sighed and relaxed quickly as Qui-Gon started to work at the muscles of his chest, pushing and rubbing and paying far more attention to Obi-Wan’s nipples than necessary, just for the pleasure of seeing them go hard and peaked, Obi-Wan’s cock steadily growing hard against his leg. 

Qui-Gon moved on to Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulders, running his large hands over his skin in sweeping passes that pressed down on the tense muscles until they released. He worked his way down each of Obi-Wan’s arms, even taking the time to massage his hands fingers, before moving onto his abdomen, waist and hips. His hands were almost large enough to fit all the way around Obi-Wan’s waist, and when he let his big hands hold him like that, Obi-Wan melted below him. 

Qui-Gon moved on to Obi-Wan’s legs, ignoring his pretty cock, which was now flat against his belly and straining, rubbing instead down Obi-Wan’s thighs all the way to his feet. When he entire front was shiny with oil and more relaxed than he’d found it, Qui-Gon gently rolled Obi-Wan onto his back, straddling his pert little ass and settling over him, to better work out the kinks in his back. 

Obi-Wan purred as he felt Qui-Gon atop him, Qui-Gon chiding him gently when he tried to rub his ass against Qui-Gon’s fattening cock. Refusing to be distracted, Qui-Gon rubbed at the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, before carefully moving to his strained shoulder, finding the knots in the muscle and pressing his thumbs down and over, down and over, rhythmically, until he finally felt the muscle begin to loosen. Obi-Wan moaned and sunk deeper into the bed as he felt the muscle finally relax fully, sagging down into the bedding. 

Smiling to himself, satisfied, Qui-Gon moved on to Obi-Wan’s other’s shoulder, before moving on to his arms, Obi-Wan unspooling more and more beneath him. Qui-Gon shuffled himself down to massage Obi-Wan’s back, Obi-Wan making a happy little noise and nudging his legs slightly apart as Qui-Gon’s cock found it’s way up against his balls, but Qui-Gon continued to ignore both his own and Obi-Wan’s arousal, in favour of working his hands from the centre of Obi-Wan’s back and out to the sides, finding plenty of knots there as well, for the extended time Obi-Wan had been spending at a desk of late. 

Qui-Gon massaged Obi-Wan’s cheeks, taking big handfuls and pushing at the meat, gripping it tight, but not moving far beyond the movements of a genuine massage, much to Obi-Wan’s apparent frustration. Qui-Gon moved from straddling Obi-Wan to better reach his legs, but as soon as he could Obi-Wan spread them wide and canted his hips up.

“Patience, I’m not done yet,” Qui-Gon chided softly, not being deterred by the way Obi-Wan’s body was begging. 

Qui-Gon finished Obi-Wan’s legs, moving down his hamstrings and calves, rubbing his feet and then moving back up again, before finally letting himself settle in the space Obi-Wan had made for him, reaching for the oil and slicking his hands up again. 

“Just one spot left,” Qui-Gon murmured, teasingly against Obi-Wan’s neck as he leaned down to kiss it. His hands returned to Obi-Wan’s ass and pressed at the muscle, pleased to find it still relaxed from his earlier ministrations. This time, Qui-Gon parted his cheeks, letting his fingers rub down from the small of Obi-Wan’s back, all the way to his balls. Qui-Gon took them in his hand and squeezed them gently, the way Obi-Wan whined and bucked making his cock jerk. 

He played with Obi-Wan’s balls for a few long minutes, ducking down to suck them both into his mouth for a while, tasting sweet like the oil.When Obi-Wan was whimpering, Qui-Gon pulled back, letting his hands run between Obi-Wan’s cheeks again, before finally letting his fingers press and tease at his eager hole. Obi-Wan’s body was already so relaxed that Qui-Gon’s first finger slipped in easily, Obi-Wan’s hole used to him by now impatient to be opened up on Qui-Gon’s fingers, able to be fucked more often than before. 

Qui-Gon fucked him for long minutes on one finger, drawing it out to push and tug at his rim before sliding it back inside, deftly seeking out his prostate and relentlessly rubbing over it, Obi-Wan gasping and whining, his body too relaxed to do much more than make beautiful noises. 

When Obi-Wan started to shake, Qui-Gon slipped a second finger inside Obi-Wan’s hot hole, pressing them both as deep as they would go, making Obi-Wan’s back arch as he did. Collapsing back onto the bedspread, Obi-Wan surrendered himself to getting fucked by Qui-Gon’s fingered, alternating between pressing them deep and stretching Obi-Wan wide around them, spending minutes at a time assaulting Obi-Wan’s prostate with the pads of both his fingers, making Obi-Wan shudder. 

By the time he added a third finger, Obi-Wan was panting and crying out wildly, his body desperately trying to tense up again to fucked back against his fingers, but Obi-Wan didn’t even seem to have the energy to even reach under himself and wrap a hand around his desperate little cock. Qui-Gon stretched Obi-Wan ruthlessly around his three fingers, spreading them as far as he could inside Obi-Wan and rubbing them against his prostate for a long time before starting to fuck him on them in earnest, thrusting his fingers in deep and fast over and over again, hitting his prostate every time, until very suddenly Obi-Wan tensed.

“Ah, Ah, Q- _ ui _ , ah, oh god, w-wait, ah ah,” Obi-Wan’s wrecked voice joined the wet noises of Obi-Wan’s hole around Qui-Gon’s fingers, his orgasm hitting him with a shock, crying out wildly as his hole gripped Qui-Gon’s fingers and he came unexpectedly against the bedding. Qui-Gon let his fingers fuck him through it, leaning forward and dropping kisses onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder as he collapsed into the bedding.

“Did you come sweet boy?” Qui-Gon murmured, knowing the answer full well as Obi-Wan moaned, his fingers still deep inside.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan muttered, voice tinged with embarrassment that Qui-Gon wanted to chase away. 

“Don’t be, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything that arousing in all my life,” Qui-Gon said, removing his finger’s from Obi-Wan’s hole as gently as he could. 

“Wait,” Obi-Wan breathed, “fuck me anyway, please.”

“Even you need a little longer than this to recover,” Qui-Gon murmured, still dropping kisses against Obi-Wan’s relaxed back. 

“I know, fuck me anyway. Please, I want it. I want you to put you ridiculous cock in my lose hole and fuck me until you come,” Obi-Wan pleaded, not even having the muscle control to wiggle himself back at Qui-Gon as he usually would. 

Qui-Gon groaned at his words, wrapping a slick hand around his throbbing cock to get some relief and reaching out, pulling one of Obi-Wan’s cheeks to the side and looked at his gaping hole. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan sighed, and Qui-Gon had never been one for denying him. 

Lying himself up Qui-Gon moaned at how easy it was to push into Obi-Wan’s hungry, sloppy little hole. Obi-Wan cried out with sensitivity, but promised Qui-Gon that he wanted it, letting Qui-Gon fuck into his pliant body with abandon until he filled him up. When he was spent, Qui-Gon pulled out of Obi-Wan’s hole, just for the pleasure of watching his come dribble out of Obi-Wan’s loose rim and drip down onto his balls. 

“I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else,” Obi-Wan sighed, voice hitching in a tiny moan as Qui-Gon failed to resist the urge to drop his hand down and finger his come back into Obi-Wan’s puffy hole. 

“Lucky me,” Qui-Gon murmured, settling down to kiss Obi-Wan for long, lazy minutes, only wishing that it was really true. What he really wanted to say was,  _ I love you so much, stay with me, even after the end of the school year, I’ll follow you, wherever you want to go _ . But sensibly, he kept that to himself, berating himself for the foolish old man he was.

#

There were still two months left until the end of the university year, but all of Qui-Gon’s students - Obi-Wan included - were already neck deep in revision, essays and stress. All the time the sun was up - and a good portion of when it wasn’t - Obi-Wan was either racing between his two jobs and sporting commitments, or he was studying. 

Qui-Gon understood it, respected it, Obi-Wan’s unfaltering work ethic was just one of the many things he had come to love about the young man - because he was able to admit by now that he was entirely in love with him - but he still hated to see Obi-Wan stressed about anything. 

So, with all of his students as remarkably stressed as they already were, the last thing that they needed in the middle of an extended revision lecture, was the fire alarm to go off. As the obnoxious bell started shrieking out through the department Qui-Gon vowed to hunt down and have some stern words with whoever had decided that then would be a good time for a drill, because it was always a drill. 

With a sigh, Qui-Gon corralled his students outside into the assembly point, registration sheet under his hand, demanding everyone that had signed in for friends that  _ weren’t actually here _ speak up right now, and crossing no less than seven names off that list - maybe Obi-Wan had been right. It hadn’t been a class that Obi-Wan assisted with, his attention instead stolen away by Koth and his Phoenician history class. 

“Professor, look,” Anakin tugged at his sleeve, pointing worriedly to a plume of smoke that had appeared over the old building, and the distinct smell of smoke that followed it. 

“Not to worry Ani,” Qui-Gon assured. “It only looks small and I’m sure the fire service has already been called.” Qui-Gon soothed, handing Mace his complete list of students, all of which were safely out of the building. He didn’t start to worry until the smoke and smell had increased significantly and Mace was running back over to him; Mace  _ never _ ran. 

“What is it?”

“Is Kenobi with you?”

“What? No, of course not. He’s with Koth this time of day,” Qui-Gon answered, a strange feeling of dread welling up inside him at Mace’s question, knowing there was only one reason he could be asking. 

“He isn’t with Koth, they were sitting a practice test so he sent Kenobi off for some extra study time himself,” Mace muttered. “Don’t do anything stupid, he’s fine, probably just forgot to sign out,” Mace added, even though he couldn’t possibly know that, even though Obi-Wan had never forgotten to sign out in his life, before marching back over to the road, waiting for the fire engine. 

A thought came to Qui-Gon, and he immediately did something stupid, and ran back to the building. 

“Professor Jinn!” Anakin called out after him in concern, sweet but entirely blowing Qui-Gon’s stealth and alerting Mace to his idotic maneuver. He ignored Mace as he bellowed at his back and went back inside. He found Obi-Wan holed up in his office more than once in recent months, Obi-Wan blushing and saying that it was his favourite place to study in the department, no interruptions, no other students, no one to get him to run errands. 

The place was barely on fire. However, even when a building was barely on fire, it meant that small parts of it at least were  _ very _ on fire, and Qui-Gon was forced to take a more convoluted route to his office to avoid thick black smoke. In the end, it was a blessing, because he heard voices up ahead in the corridor. 

“Come on Kit,” it was Obi-Wan’s voice, frustrated and strained, and when Obi-Wan rounded the corner, he found them. Obi-Wan had Kit Fisto’s arm around his neck and one of his own around his fellow post-grad’s waist as he dragged the coughing man along the narrow hallway. 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon breathed out in relief, both men’s eyes jumping up to him with a similar emotion.

“Qui, what are you doing inside, you should be outside!” Obi-Wan berated. 

“I’ll give you one guess,” Qui-Gon quipped, striding over and taking Kit’s other side, Obi-Wan able to move much faster with Qui-gon’s assistance. Obi-Wan blushed at the comment, because of course he did. 

Tamping down on in his need to touch Obi-Wan and assure himself that he was, in fact, perfectly safe, was harder than he imagined, especially as it would have to wait until they were not also surrounded by a crowd also, was harder than Qui-Gon imagined, but he studiously ignored the desire in favour of navigating their way out of the building. 

When they emerged, Kit was taken over to the paramedics and they got shouted at by Mace and a pair of firefighters, then Obi-Wan also got thanked when it became clear that he at least hadn’t rushed  _ back _ into a burning building.

“It was barely on fire,” Qui-Gon muttered as Mace kept up his tirade, which apparently  _ really _ pissed him off, because his voice rose another two octaves. Obi-Wan, clever thing that he was, had slipped off to get looked over by a paramedic.

Qui-Gon also had to get looked over, despite his certainty that he hadn’t inhaled any smoke or touched any fire - he would definitely be aware of the last one. But all in all, after emerging from the building, everything was fairly anticlimactic. The firefighters controlled the fire with relative ease, all things considered - and after a thorough sweep, could confirm that no one else was in the building. 

Of all things, it turned out that the old wiring had betrayed them. Kit had been in the dingy little kitchen, turned on the toaster, and got unbelievably unlucky as it, for lack of a better word but not deserving the drama, exploded. That had triggered the alarm, and Kit had spent a few minutes trying to get the fire extinguisher to work, before working out that the thing was  _ way _ out of date, by which point he’s inhaled a lot of smoke and started to have trouble getting away. 

Obi-Wan had been working in Qui-Gon’s office, as he expected, but had spotted Kit in the kitchen when he’d popped down to get a drink a few minutes before, and gone down to check he’d got out alright before leaving himself. Overall, no one had gotten hurt and the department would finally be forced to renovate the kitchen, which Qui-gon rather thought was a net win. However, it obviously pissed off Mace, and he was apparently channeling all of his fury at the ruined kitchen - or rather, at not having replaced the extinguishers when he should have, his responsibility as department head, after all, and therefore being legally liable - at Qui-Gon.

Leaving Mace to his foul mood, Qui-Gon slipped away in the chaos of nosy people, took Obi-Wan home and had frantic sex against Qui-Gon’s bedroom wall.

#

“We should probably get going,” Qui-Gon said, sipping his tea and watching Obi-Wan playing with Pippa in his living room. 

“Probably,” Obi-Wan agreed, regretfully but not putting down the mouse he was wiggling in front of her paws.

“We’ll be late,” Qui-Gon pointed out, be he hadn’t moved either. 

“Is the department even open right now? Isn’t it, I don’t know, hazardous? It’s not even been forty-eight hours.”

“The powers that be have decided that it’s structurally fine, and normal services in areas not currently charcoal are to resume,” Qui-Gon sighed, a much abridged version of Mace’s fifth extremely irate email. He’d managed to escalate Qui-Gon’s dash back into the building to ‘indicative of a wider problem’ where Qui-Gon was ‘difficult’ and ‘ignored guidelines’; which he did, of course, but they both knew Mace was just trying to deflect from his own shortcomings right now, and Qui-Gon was the easiest target in sight. He’d stopped replying to the emails, and received another rant about him proving just how difficult he was.

Qui-Gon had, as politely as he was able, pointed out to Mace that he might be misplacing anger over his own mistakes onto Qui-Gon’s shoulders, and managed to incur an angry phone call. Briefly, Qui-Gon wondered if he could make Obi-Wan his lookout instead of his TA today, to ensure he could avoid Mace today, but decided against involving Obi-Wan in Mace’s nonsense. 

“I suppose your lecture rooms are a fair distance away,” Obi-Wan said, reluctantly getting up and leaving Pippa with a few extra strokes to her fur. He was wearing Qui-Gon’s jumper again, one of his favourites actually, a soft forest green thing that swamped Obi-Wan and hung off his shoulders, leaving the dark mark Qui-Gon had sucked into his neck last night visible.

“You need to stop wearing my clothes when I can’t tear them off you,” Qui-Gon muttered with no real heat, Obi-Wan grinned at him. 

“You love it when I wear your clothes, you’re a possessive bastard, don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Obi-Wan teased him, Qui-Gon felt immediately guilty - Obi-Wan wasn’t his to get possessive over, after all - and it must’ve shown on his face, because Obi-Wan quickly crowded into his space. “I like it.” He assured, tugging Qui-Gon down into a kiss. 

“Yes, well, just so you know it takes every inch of my self control not to bend you over my desk when you wander into class wearing my clothes.”

“Why do you think I do it so often,” Obi-Wan winked.

“Imp,” Qui-Gon growled, stealing a sloppy, deep kiss, before cursing at the clock, because they really didn’t have time. 

They made a token effort of not arriving together at the department, in the form of Obi-Wan taking a small detour to go and pick them both up a tea from a local cafe they both favoured. Obi-Wan popped it on his desk when he arrived, and adopted what to an outside would seem like a very professional manner throughout the lecture, but Qui-Gon could only see the way his fingers toyed with the bruise on his neck, and the the jumper that  _ clearly _ wasn’t his wrapped him up. 

Managing to limit his own distraction, Qui-Gon growled at Obi-Wan as the door shut behind the last of his students, pulling him in tight and biting at his lips, before forcing himself to take it no further.

“Tease,” Obi-Wan chided with a smile, still almost close enough to taste. 

With a squeak of old hinges, the door at the top of the lecture hall opened and Mace strode in, his face pinched even before he paused and took in the scene in front of him, Obi-Wan clad in a jumper that was far too big for him, one Qui-Gon had worn to work on many occasions, and just how close the pair of them were standing, and his eyes narrowed. 

Qui-Gon had the sinking feeling that he should have checked that university policy after all, as Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked nervously between the two professors. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You're the best! Just one more chapter to go, hopefully will only take me a few days to complete ^_^
> 
> As always stay sane if you can, comments and kudos increase the speed of my typing my a factor of 10000000000~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter woohoo! Enjoy the ride, mind the smut, etc etc
> 
> Also damn, 40k in 12 days?? not to shabby @ me, there are perks to lockdown after all

“You can’t be serious,” Qui-Gon said the next morning, when he walked into the department, only to be hauled into Mace’s office, surrounded by the stony faces of general university management staff, and, traitorously, a few of Qui0Gon’s direct colleagues.

At first it hadn’t seemed like there was any problem, Mace had watched them warily, assessingly, but in the end just berated Qui-Gon yet again for his actions during the fire, which Qui-Gon thought he accepted with an astounding amount of grace. However, after coming into work this morning and being dragged into Mace’s office, it was becoming rapidly apparent that everything wasn’t fine, given the audience and that first the words out of Mace’s mouth had been ‘Professor Jinn, what exactly is the nature of your relationship with Obi-Wan Kenobi’. 

Which brought him round to asking if they were serious. 

“We’re incredibly serious. There are doubts that your relationship is what it should be; Kenobi has been seen wearing what are believed to be your shirts, you are often seen spending time together outside the department, and you apparently have had concerns about your ability to mark his work effectively,” someone Qui-Gon vaguely recognised as being an aide to the vice-chancellor of the university said. 

“Surely it’d be a good thing that I was having someone check my marking for favouritism,” Qui-Gon pointed out, the frowns of most the assembled people deepened, and Qui-Gon just barely managed to contain an irritated sigh. 

“So you admit that your relationship is inappropriate,” Mace said, victorious, as if he’d caught Qui-Gon out cleverly. 

“As a pair of consenting adults Obi-Wan and I have been engaging in a relationship outside of the bounds of our professional one, if that’s what you mean. I’m not sure I’d agree that it’s ‘inappropriate’.”

“Regardless of what you think, according to university policy it  _ is _ inappropriate,” Mace countered.

“A policy that outright bans a consensual relationship between a pair of adults who have known each other for years seems a little draconian, perhaps it could do with a few revisions, it’s not like Obi-Wan is a fresh undergraduate. He has more contact hours with the undergrads than most people in this room, aren’t postgraduates more colleague than student by that point?” Qui-Gon argued camly. Surprisingly calmly, actually, considering that he wasn’t entirely sure what the consequences were going to be.

Abstractly he was impressed with himself, as he had apparently entirely subconsciously decided that they didn’t matter. Honestly, he was growing stale at the university anyway, he’d been here too long doing the same things year on year, and he couldn’t imagine himself particularly wanting to work under Mace after this anyway. Whatever those consequences were about to be, he would bear them - though perhaps not gracefully - knowing that he wouldn’t trade his time with Obi-Wan for anything. His only concern was that any repercussions would affect him. 

“I can see that you haven’t troubled yourself to actually read the policy,” Mace said, fixing Qui-Gon with a hard look. “If you had you would be aware that regarding relationships with post-graduates it makes clear that they are treated on a case by case basis, but that the relationship must be declared to the university as soon as it develops so that we can decide the best course of action. It also says that relationships that are kept secret will be treated unfavourably and can be grounds for dismissal.”

_ Ah _ , Qui-Gon grimaced to himself, he really should have looked it up. Although on reflection, he wasn’t sure what good it would’ve done; Obi-Wan would have hardly wanted to declare a casual relationship with Qui-Gon to a room filled with university suits, so in reality, if they had read the policy, there probably would be no  _ them _ at all. 

“I wouldn’t say we kept it ‘secret’,” Qui-Gon hedged. “Like you say we have been seen out and about together plenty of times outside of university business. We both simply value our privacy and so keep our private life  _ private _ .”

“I’m afraid the policy is very clear - ” another person Qui-Gon didn’t recognise started, he interrupted them. 

“Actually it’s fairly vague. ‘Can be’ could be interpreted in a myriad of ways

“The meaning of the policy is perfectly clear,” they responded through gritted teeth. 

“Really? Have you asked the person who wrote it what their original intention via that wording was? If you can’t even respect and consider the reasons for a deliberately vague question then I feel for your students.”

“Qui-Gon, you are not helping yourself,” Mace held his hand up before the argument could continue. 

“As you’re evidently so intent on dismissing me I don’t see how I can be hurting myself.”

“We’re not dismissing you.”

“What are you doing then.”

“We’re...asking you to leave. Quietly and respectfully, neither your reputation nor the university’s need come into disrepute.”

“Sounds like a dismissal. What if I refuse to ‘go quietly’,” Qui-Gon challenged, finding this entire thing ridiculous, loop holes, bureaucracy and anal polocy-minders, all because a pair of adults were sharing an intimate relationship. 

“For starters your position won’t be renewed come September and it will become clear that you were dismissed rather than choosing to depart.”

“As if me leaving a month and a half before my students all sit their exams doesn’t make it obvious that I’ve been dismissed anyway,” Qui-Gon scoffed. 

“You students are mainly conducting revision by now, other professors in the department are more than capable of seeing your courses through to the end,” Mace said, Qui-Gon scoffed again, loudly, and ignored the collective glares that were driven his way. 

“You know what I think?” Qui-Gon said, and then ploughed on before anyone could answer. “I think that you know full well you’d have difficulty formally dismissing me on the back of a policy clearly designed to protect students from an abuse of trust rather than a consensual relationship. I think that you know that if I decided to fight it, and I’m enough of a - what is it you call me sometimes? ‘A pain in the arse liberal bastard’ - to do just that, that I might very well win. So you’re not dismissing me, because you can’t.”

“So you’re going to force us to refuse to renew your position in September then?” Mace asked through gritted teeth, Qui-Gon used to be fond of the look Mace got whenever Qui-Gon was giving him a headache. 

“ _ If _ we don’t decide to formally dismiss you after all, after this performance,” one of the admin staff threatened. 

He thought for a moment, looking around a room with a fair few of his colleagues. He’d known they weren’t exactly  _ bosom buddies _ , that they found him too argumentative, too lefty and too progressive, but he’d honestly thought that they appreciated the dissenting opinion, realised it’s necessity. He’d thought there’d been a bit of respect there, at least. Looking around the room, apparently he’d been mistaken. 

He could refuse to leave, see out his student’s last year if they decided not to formally dismiss him (and if they did, even if he won, the process would take so long that he might as well have not been around for his students  _ anyway _ ), but did Qui-Gon really want to be working alongside these people anymore? If they were all so ready to turn on him like this, just a few months after showing up at a birthday party wishing him well, perhaps they weren’t people he wanted to be around. 

The reality of the situation was that his students would be fine without him. The undergrads would have Obi-Wan to look after them, for a bit of consistency, and the postgrads would be well looked after by the department. There was only one student that worried him. 

“I’ll leave, I have no desire to be around people that would behave as friends only to dismiss me to help distract attention away from the department’s health and safety failings,” Qui-Gon accused, knowing he hit a nerve when Mace’s face hardened, deciding to ignore Adi’s rattled expression. ”But Obi-wan must not be punished, it isn’t like he even has access to these archaic policies, he couldn’t have known.”

“The student is  _ not _ the party in breach of this policy and liable to its repercussions. It exists to protect the student.” One of the admin staff said, snittily.

“Oh, how big of you,” Qui-Gon replied, condescending. “I’ll make sure Obi-Wan knows he’s being ‘protected’ when I see him later.”

“You cannot intend to continue this,” another admin said.

“I intend to do whatever the hell I want as I don’t work for you anymore,” Qui-Gon huffed, turning on his heel and storming out of the room. Qui-Gon was proud of himself for resisting the urge to say ‘e tu, brute?’ to Adi as he left, but she at least had the good grace to look ashamed. When the door shut behind him, Qui-Gon heard her speak up on his behalf, but didn’t stick around to listen, whatever it was she was saying, she still felt complicit to Qui-Gon. 

Qui-Gon pushed his way out the building and immediately regretted it, he should have gone to his classroom if only to give Obi-Wan some forewarning -  _ if _ they hadn't already had someone waylay him that was - about what had just happened. But then again, if a scandal was about to break out around the department that Professor Jinn had been dismissed - and it seemed somewhat inevitable that it would - then the last thing Obi-Wan was likely to need was him hanging around. With any luck, Obi-Wan would be able to avoid all the nonsense.

Walking home through the park, Qui-Gon let his thoughts turn more fully to Obi-Wan, regretfully. Despite what he’d said when storming out, it seemed to Qui-Gon inevitable that the younger man would choose to end things between them now. There was nothing casual about someone who was going to become the subject of gossip until something better came along, and there was nothing convenient about someone who didn’t spend all his days in the same place anymore. Qui-Gon didn’t care about his job, but it felt like the university - and  _ certain individuals  _ therein, had just cost him forty five days with Obi-Wan.

By the time he reached his house, Qui-Gon was floating in a strange place between furious and deeply upset, he fished his phone out his pocket, intending to sending Obi-Wan a message - although saying what he hadn’t a clue - only to find a slew of messages from him waiting.

_ Qui? Where are you? The undergrads are getting antsy, I’ve just told them to get in some study time while I’m here to answer questions at least _

_ Getting a little worried, Plo just showed up to supervise the class, but he won’t tell me where you are _

_ I hope you’re okay <3 _

_ Qui-Gon I’m so so sorry, Mace just ambushed me. Is it okay if I come over? _

The most recent one was only a few minutes old and Qui-Gon tapped out a response quickly. 

_ You’ve got classes all day, come over this evening, nothing will have changed before then.  _

Qui-Gon replied, not wanting Obi-Wan to give anyone any excuses to reprimand him like he would if he shirked his responsibilities. He was also relieved that apparently Obi-Wan was just as disinclined to try and discuss what had happened over the phone - or god forbid over  _ text _ as Qui-Gon was. 

It would also buy him most of the day to think about what on earth he was going to say to him. This wasn’t what Obi-Wan signed up for, this had become firmly stress-inducing rather than stress relieving. 

_ I’m not exactly in the mood to study right now Qui, but fine. _

Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of relief at Obi-Wan’s text, scooped up Pippa from where she was winding herself around his legs, and tried to sort out his myriad of thoughts.

Starting with the simplest; he was now jobless, but he had a number of assets floating around, enough that he would be fine for the considerably future - probably forever if he managed them well, but he knew he’d get terribly bored without some kind of work - so he could be leisurely about finding a new position somewhere. Perhaps he'd leave academia, find something a little more bohemian for a while. 

That led on to the thought that currently he lived in a very small university city, he liked his house, but did he really want to stay here, where he would inevitably run into gossip and former colleagues. He wasn’t a coward, and he liked the city, but he’d been here for a long time, and there were nice houses in other places. 

It made him think about Obi-Wan though, Obi-Wan was in this city, it was easily it’s biggest appeal. The university had been planning on offering Obi-Wan a permanent position in the department upon obtaining his PhD, Qui-Gon realised with a sinking, guilty feeling, that he had probably stolen that chance from Obi-Wan. Which meant that in two months, Obi-Wan would graduate, and leave this city behind in search for fresh pursuits. So what would be keeping Qui-Gon here then?

Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon sighed internally, wistful and melancholy even to his own mind. What on earth was he going to say to Obi-Wan? It was possible that Obi-Wan would have mercy and take it out of Qui-Gon’s hands, that all he would have to do would be to accept Obi-Wan breaking it off gracefully, and slip out of his life quietly. 

Qui-Gon was sure that the last thing Obi-Wan would want was the baggage Qui-Gon would now be attaching to his life. He could admit that the best thing for Obi-Wan would doubtlessly be to be as far away from Qui-Gon as possible, lest his final weeks at the university be dogged by unpleasant gossip, and Obi-Wan deserved better than that.

But what to say to him? He didn’t want Obi-Wan to feel pressured or awkward, they were and always had been to each other, whatever Obi-Wan wanted them to be, and Qui-Gon saw no reason to change that approach now. If Obi-Wan wanted to break it off immediately, then Qui-Gon would find a way to smile through it and make sure he knew that was okay, he didn’t need to worry about the broken heart of a man twice his age.

It then hit him with a fresh wave of guilt that if he knew Obi-Wan at all - and he did - then right now Obi-Wan probably felt very very guilty. Qui-Gon cursed himself for not thinking about that sooner, Obi-Wan had just found out that Qui-Gon had lost his job due to their relationship, and rather than doing the sensible thing and blaming Qui-Gon’s penchant for neither reading nor adhering to university policy as was clearly the fault here, he was probably blaming himself. 

Qui-Gon paused at his own thoughts. He didn’t consider it a fault. Of course he hadn’t imagined things ending like this for them, he hadn’t seriously thought about the consequences, but now that he was faced with them, he found that he wouldn’t have done anything differently anyway. If he’d looked up the university’s little rules, then he probably wouldn’t have had the five months with Obi-Wan that he’d had, and he wouldn’t give them up for anything. 

At least his revelations made deciding what to say to Obi-Wan when he arrived relatively simple, or at least, it gave him a goal; make sure the poor boy didn’t feel guilty. And make for damn certain he didn’t think that Qui-Gon regretted a single second of what had happened between them. Given everything, Obi-Wan might regret it, and Qui-Gon wouldn’t blame him for that, but he couldn’t abide the idea of Obi-Wan walking around thinking he was a mistake, or that he’d ruined someone’s life. Qui-Gon had lived far more in the five months he’d spent with Obi-Wan than he had in the fifty years that preceded it. 

As the day ticked round into evening, Qui-Gon ummed and ahhed about making dinner to time with Obi-Wan’s arrival. On the one hand, Obi-Wan enjoyed his cooking, didn’t eat enough when he was on his own, and Qui-Gon liked feeding him. But on the other, he didn’t want Obi-Wan to feel trapped or obligated to stay, if he was coming here with the sole purpose of ending things and wished to beat a hasty retreat afterwards, before any awkward silences could draw out between them. 

By the time Obi-Wan knocked on the door, Qui-Gon had resolved not to cook, if Obi-Wan wanted to stay then he could order in for once, treat them both after a trying day. When he opened the door Obi-Wan looked harried, cross, and extremely tired. For the first time in a while, Qui-gon tamped down hard on the desire to pull him into his arms and smooth out the lines in his brow. 

“I’m so sorry Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan started, as he had predicted he would, but as Qui-Gon opened the door to let him in, Obi-Wan carried on speaking before he could cut in. “This is all my fault, you’ve  _ lost you job _ , I was so stupid, i shouldn’t have - ”

“I don’t regret a thing,” Qui-Gon said simply, speaking over Obi-Wan’s increasingly distraught voice, thankfully quieting his self-tirade.

“How can you possibly say that?”

“Because I have thoroughly enjoyed our time together,” Qui-Gon replied, refusing to let the ‘because i love you’ get past his lips, wording what he did say carefully, not saying anything that might make Obi-Wan feel obligated to stay if he didn’t want to. “Because I don’t want to work with people who would turn on me like that anyway. Even if I did care about my job, it would still be my own fault for not checking the policies on these things.”

“I’m twenty five, we’ve known each other for years, I didn’t even think...” Obi-Wan protested, he was wringing his hands, but he hadn’t reached out to Qui-Gon to calm him, like he usually did, so Qui-Gon respected his space, even as he seemed to grow more agitated. “If I’d known I would have been more careful I swear, I can’t believe this is happening. What could a policy even have against us?”

“It’s wording was that serious relationships between postgrads and professors are tolerated, but only when declared to the university.”

“But thats - what makes a serious relationship more valid than one thats, more, I don’t know, complicated?” Obi-Wan hedged, still mired in his guilt, Qui-Gon tried not to let his heart rip itself to shreds at the confirmation of what he already knew; that to Obi-Wan, this wasn’t serious. “We can fight them on this, you can’t let this happen. It’s not like you were taking advantage of me, I can prove it, I’ll -“

“Obi-Wan look at me,” Qui-Gon said firmly, as Obi-Wan started biting his lip, his eyes darting around the room, pleased when Obi-Wan did as asked, ceasing his torrent of words. “I need you to believe me when I say that I have no regrets. That none of this is your fault, and that I wouldn’t change a thing, even after the events of today. We had a wonderful thing together, it doesn’t have to be sullied by what happened today.” Qui-Gon said, proud of himself for holding his voice so steady as he tried to relieve Obi-Wan of his guilt and gently set him free. 

There was a part of Qui-Gon, a greedy, possessive, desperate part of him, that wanted to cling to Obi-Wan and never let him go. That wanted to beg for him to stay, to be with him always and never let him leave, but it was a part of himself that he didn’t like, and he locked it away as firmly as he could, instead doing his best to be for Obi-Wan what he needed right now; easygoing and peaceful.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said quietly, but his face had fallen and he wasn’t looking at Qui-Gon anymore. Before he could catch himself, Qui-Gon tucked two fingers under his chin and brought him up to meet his eyes. He would miss those eyes.

“No more guilt. You have an entire life spreading out in front of you, there is no need to carry baggage that isn’t your own, over things that weren’t your fault.”

Obi-Wan offered him a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes after that, he was too kind for his own good, but hopefully he only needed time. He made a half hearted excuse for himself to leave, and Qui-Gon felt the ridiculous, romantic part of his heart that had still be holding out hope finally shatter, but on his face he only smiled, told Obi-Wan that if he needed any help with his work he was still right here, that he would always be Obi-Wan’s friend. Obi-Wan smiled at him sadly, and left. 

#

“You’ve got to hand it to Mace, it’s an excellent distraction technique. Blind the university higher-ups to his own incompetence by throwing a scandal at them instead,” Qui-Gon seethed at Pippa, before realising that his foul mood was causing her stress, and forcing himself to mellow out. There was nothing like being exposed as fucking a student - because that was apparently all anyone heard, no one heard the 25 year old postgraduate part - to leave you a pariah among your collegues and your cat as your only confidant. 

It had been a week - a very long week - since he’s been dismissed while people insisted he wasn’t being dismissed, and he’d woken up this morning, without Obi-Wan in his bed yet again (not that this was surprising anymore), to an email telling him to come in and clear out his office. It had been just what he needed to move from moping into anger. 

So much for it not damaging his reputation. He’d been told by Quinlan - probably his only ally left in the place - that of course it had gotten out almost immediately, and that before the end of the day the entire department had been aflutter with the news that Qui-Gon had left due to an affair with a student. Quinlan had also told him that simply by not being congenital morons everyone had figured out that it was Obi-Wan it’d been with. So, so much for being able to keep Obi-Wan out of the mick.

He hadn’t heard from Obi-Wan all week, and given the gossip, he hardly blamed the young man. Qui-Gon tried to pretend he was taking it well, but in truth he checked his phone compulsively, just in case. Knowing that storming into the department in a whirlwind of fury wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Obi-Wan if he caught sight of it, Qui-Gon forced himself to calm down, not leaving the house until he was breathing evenly and unlikley to murder Mace if he saw him. 

Qui-Gon checked the clock as he drove, wishing that he didn’t know Obi-Wan’s schedule as well as he did, because it meant that he knew that if he took the direct route, he might bump into Obi-Wan in a lecture, but if took the scenic one, he would be safely ensconced in an undergraduate lecture with Plo. There were two distinct halves of himself at war; the half that wanted to tear away at a run because he missed Obi-Wan so desperately he wasn’t even sleeping, and the part that wanted to drag his feet because the thought alone of seeing Obi-Wan but not have him in any way was agony. 

In the end, the decision was taken out of his hands, as a diversion for roadworks in the middle of town forced him onto a journey even longer than he had anticipated for the scenic route, landing him in a ridiculous amount of traffic for a Thursday midmorning. Parked up as close to the department as he could get, Qui-Gon climbed out of his car and wondered with a humourless laugh if they’d give him one of those brown boxes for his things, like they always seemed to in films.

As he entered the department and made a beeline for his old office, Qui-Gon resolutely ignored the way silence washed out over everyone that could see him. All in all, the silence was much easier to ignore than the whispers that followed it, but Qui-Gon persevered, and shut the door to his office before he could hear enough to want to strangle anyone.

Unfortunately, his office wasn’t empty. At first, upon seeing the figure out of the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon’s heart had soared, thinking that it might be Obi-Wan, but it was just Adi. Possibly the second to last person he wanted to see in here. 

“Please with yourself?” Qui-Gon asked, and then immediately regretted it when she cringed, ashamed of himself, that wasn’t who he wanted to be. “I’m sorry,” he huffed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s been a long week.”

“No, I deserve it. I don’t want you to think I’m here to make excuses, but -”

“But you’re here with an excuse?”

“No. Well, yes. I just wanted you to know that Mace made it sound as though you’d been taking advantage of Obi-Wan. I didn’t really believe him but first and foremost I care about the students, I’m their welfare officer so I felt like I had to be involved. I didn’t realise it was going to be such an ambush, and I didn’t realise he was going to dismiss you like that. I thought we were just going to get to the bottom of it.” 

“We’ve all made mistakes,” Qui-gon sighed, starting to gather his books from their shelves. 

“I know that’s not what it was, by the way,” she said, awkwardly, Qi-Gon spared her a questioning glance. “I mean, I know you weren’t taking advantage, Obi-Wan gave us a very impassioned speech, he was extremely angry. I half expected him to abandon his PhD and follow you out the door. He's exceptionally loyal.”

“That he is,” Qui-Gon agreed with a soft smile, wondering what Obi-Wan had said, wishing that Obi-Wan really would follow him after he graduated. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you keep it a secret?” Adi asked, and honestly Qui-Gon did mind, it was none of her business, but he figured he had nothing left to lose at this point, and shrugged. 

“It was only a casual relationship, I’m sure Obi-Wan had plenty of reasons for wanting to keep it private.”

“Casual?” Adi said, incredulous and with her face screwed up a little. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t make me spell it out for you,” Qui-Gon sighed, massaging the space between his eyes. 

“And that’s what Obi-Wan wants?” 

“Well, I can’t speak for what he wants anymore as we are no longer seeing each other in any capacity. But at the time, yes,” Qui-Gon said, trying to ignore the way it hurt to even say, paying far more attention to the old book in his hands than was necessary. 

“What do you mean you aren’t seeing each other anymore?” 

“There really is only one meaning to that.”

“Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan has been an absolute  _ wreck  _ for the last week! I thought it was guilt over your job! How could you do that to him? Maybe it  _ is _ best that the university stepped in if you were going to be so callous with his feelings.”

“Thank you once again for your unsolicited judgement Adi, but Obi-Wan broke it off with  _ me _ ,” Qui-Gon replied, doing his best not to shout as anger bubbled up in his chest, feeding off all the hurt there. “I would have followed him across the world if he had only asked!”

“What? But that makes no sense, he was smitten with you.”

“He was very fond.”

“But the things he said to us...Qui-Gon, are you  _ sure _ he broke it off with you? That boy has been walking around this department like a mopey zoo lion all week.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Qui-Gon huffed impatiently, the last thing he needed was to want to seek out Obi-Wan, to make him feel better, to gather him into his arms when Obi-Wan didn’t want that anymore. And he’d made that pretty clear last week, hadn’t he?

“Qui-Gon - ”

“Adi stop. Don’t you think you’ve meddled in our business enough already?” Qui-Gon said firmly, opening the door for Adi in a clear gesture. 

“Fine,” he allowed, back to looking ashamed. “I really am sorry for what happened. And for what it’s worth, I think you need to speak to Obi-Wan.”

Qui-Gon closed the door behind her without answering, relieved to be on his own, and trying not to let his mind race. Adi didn’t know what had been between himself and Obi-Wan, he barely knew himself, the only thing he was sure of was his own love, and at least some kind of fond affection from Obi-Wan. He had likely only been defending Qui-Gon’s honour with whatever he had said to them, and they clearly weren’t words meant for Qui-Gon, otherwise Obi-Wan would have told him. 

It took longer than expected to clean out his office, he’d collected more stuff in there than he had realised, but the tedium and repetitive trips down to his car at least kept his mind somewhat occupied. The whispers didn’t stop as he walked down the halls though, and soon enough Qui-Gon overheard something that he simply couldn’t ignore. 

“Can you actually  _ believe _ that Obi-Wan. Always knew he was a little slut and now he’s gone and cost us our best professor just weeks before our exams because he couldn’t keep his fucking legs closed!”

“I know! I don’t see why we should all be punished just because Kenobi can’t keep himself off his knees!”

“How dare you,” Qui-Gon said loudly, whirling on the - now petrified looking - students who had apparently thought they couldn’t be heard. He recognised them vaguely as second year undergrads from some of his lectures, average students in every way. 

“Professor Jinn!” They both squeaked, jumping in surprise as he loomed over them. 

“How  _ dare _ you speak about him like that, he is worth a thousand of you! I will not have him blamed for something that is not his fault, I will not have him made a pariah at a university he has given so much to, and I will not have someone I love spoken about in such an abhorrent way. Get out of my sight and think about the kinds of people you are turning into, because from here they seem wholly selfish and spiteful people that no one will ever value,” Qui-gon chest heaved as the student scattered away, he hadn’t quite shouted, but his anger was unmistakable, and he shut his eyes to try and calm himself. 

“Qui-Gon?” A voice he would recognise anywhere said tentatively behind him, not five seconds after the students had been sent running. 

“Oh Obi-Wan, I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon groaned, turning around to face him. Adi was right, he looked haggard, and like he hadn’t slept properly; he always slept well in Qui-Gon’s arms. But he was still breathtakingly beautiful. “I realise I probably just made things worse for you but the things they were  _ saying _ , I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“It’s okay,” Obi-Wan said, biting at his lip, making it red.

“It is  _ not _ . All I’m doing is making things harder for you and the whole point of everything I’ve done has been to try and make it as easy for you as possible, and I’m just so sorry Obi-Wan.”

“Can we, talk, maybe? Somewhere private?” Obi-Wan asked, looking anxiously at the cracked doors and open hallways. 

“Of course, I only came to collect my things, so we can still use my office,” Qui-Gon replied, leading the short distance there, an aborted movement as he reached out of Obi-Wan’s hand without thinking. Obi-Wan seemed to lean in, but habits could be hard to break, even when you wanted them to. 

Shutting the door behind them, Qui-Gon shuffled around some books that hadn’t made it to his car yet. “I really am very -”

“You said you loved me,” Obi-Wan blurted, shutting Qui-Gon up quickly and effectively shutting Qui-Gon up. “I know there can be a hundred ways that you might mean that and I’m probably just being hopeless, but if I don’t ask I’m always going to wonder, and I think that would be worse in the long run than just, finding out for sure now. So, uh, what did you mean, when you said that?”

Qui-Gon suddenly felt an affinity with rabbits that freeze when they’re caught in the beam of someone’s headlights. But Qui-Gon found that he couldn’t lie about it. 

“I meant that I am very much in love with you, Obi-Wan. I am sorry, I didn’t want to burden you with this, you owe me nothing and I would hate for you to think that you did. And I know that what you wanted was something more simple and casual, but I am afraid it has not been so for me.”

“Qui-Gon, what. What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan asked, face screwed up in confusion. 

“I mean - ”

“No, stop talking,” Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon did as asked. A few long moments stretched out between them with a complicated look on Obi-Wan’s face.

“I thought,” Obi-Wan began, slowly, “that you had wanted to keep our relationship secret because you were worried about your job, perhaps a little embarrassed to be seeing someone so much younger. I thought that you were only interested in something casual because I was too young for you to take seriously, and I thought that you were so, so  _ zen _ about everything that happened that it must’ve been because you really were only casual and when I went to see you, you were, well, you were talking about us in the past tense, so I thought I’d become more trouble than I was worth. But if you’re saying that you’re in love with me, then maybe I was wrong?”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon breathed, too much going on in his brain to process anything but a hopefully burst of utter euphoria. “How could you think that? You are far too good for me, I thought that you didn’t want our relationship to be public knowledge because you were just looking for a safe space to blow off steam, you’re so young, I couldn’t fathom you wanting the same things that I do. I still can’t, you can’t want to throw your life away on an old man.”

“Don’t call it throwing it away, I love you too, doesn’t that make it simple?” Obi-Wan replied and Qui-Gon’s heart soared, but usually when things felt too good to be true they were.

“In some ways it does,” Qui-Gon smiled, cupping Obi-Wan cheek in his hand, Obi-Wan’s own coming up to hold it there as his eyes fluttered closed. “But you still need to consider the fact that I am so much older than you, we must want different things.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan sid calmly, even though Qui-Gon could practically taste his irritation at Qui-Gon bringing it up again. “Why don’t I tell you what I want? I want to wake up next to you in the mornings, and go to sleep beside you in the evenings. I want to follow you wherever life might take you, and for you to follow me when there are things I want to pursue. I want you to stop telling me all the reasons you think you’re wrong for me, and start appreciating all the ways that you are exactly what I need. I chose you, and I will continue to chose you, and I hope that you do not think so little of me that you believe that this is just some passing fancy for me, and that one day I will simply wake up and suddenly have had my fill of you. I’ll have never had enough.”

Obi-Wan finished, looking at Qui-Gon with hard, determined eyes, but cradling his neck in soft hands, and Qui-Gon had no verbal response, and so instead he drew Obi-Wan into a long, deep kiss. Even in the space of a week, he’d missed the taste of Obi-Wan’s lips, the way they felt against his own, how easily he opened for Qui-Gon, let his tongue press into his mouth and brush along his own tongue. It was only when Obi-Wan moaned softly and took a hitched step to press against Qui-gon’s front, that he pulled away, dropping sweet kisses against Obi-Wan’s neck. 

“I know I don’t work here anymore,” Qui-Gon murmured, running his nose along the delicate side of Obi-Wan’s neck. “But we probably should leave before this goes any further.”

“It barely went anywhere at all,” Obi-Wan pouted. 

“That’s because if I do any more than just kiss your sweet lips, I won’t be able to stop myself,” Qui-Gon replied, letting his hands run down Obi-Wan’s back and tease his waistband.

“Please Qui-Gon, I’ve missed you so much, I’ve missed the way you touch me,” Obi-Wan gasped, bearing his neck further and pulling Qui-Gon’s hands tighter against him. 

Qui-Gon pulled away, detaching Obi-Wan’s hands from himself as Obi-Wan whimpered. He strode over to the old wooden door and resolutely locked it, when he turned, Obi-Wan’s eyes had darkened and he was blushing.

“ _ Insatiable _ ,” Qui-Gon said, walking back with a smirk and circling Obi-Wan. “Can you not wait to get home?” He purred, standing behind Obi-Wan and nipping at his ear, chuckling when Obi-Wan blushed and shook his head. “Alright then, I’m going to make you come right here, and then I’m going to take you home and make you come again and again and again. In fact I think I’m not going to let you leave my bed or get dressed for days. Does that sound good?” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan squeaked, turning in Qui-Gon’s arms at the slightest nudge. 

“Good. Bend over my desk,” Qui-Gon said, Obi-Wan’s blush instantly deepened as he scurried to comply, his feet just about touching the floor as he lay his front over the wood.

Qui-Gon murmured praise as he approached, laying one large hand over Obi-Wan’s flank, running it over his clothes before reaching around to unbuckle Obi-Wan’s jeans and tug them down, along with his boxers, trapping them just under his perky little ass. Qui-Gon’s hands massaged his exposed skin, pulling his cheeks apart, to rest his thumb over Obi-Wan’s hole before letting his fingers wander further down, toying with Obi-Wan’s balls, his cock already completely hard. 

“You’re so responsive,” Qui-Gon praised, always caught off-guard by it, no matter how many times he experienced it, Obi-Wan moaned and canted his hips back. 

He didn’t keep any lube in his office, back when he’d give a shit he’d decided that getting caught fucking in his office was not what they needed, so any encouragements needed to be kept clear of the premises. Now, however, he was regretting his restraint. He could jerk Obi-Wan off slowly in his hand, or he could suck his cock into his mouth, but he knew what Obi-Wan loved the most was getting his little hole played with, never coming harder than when Qui-Gon was inside him in some way, and it’d been a long week, he wanted to give Obi-Wan what he wanted most. 

Squeezing Obi-Wan’s hips, Qui-Gon got down onto his knees, ignoring the harshness of the wood on his joints in favour of exposing Obi-Wan’s hole again, blowing lightly over it, rubbing his thumb over the tight pucker. 

“Qui-Gon, please,” Obi-Wan begged. 

“Do you need something for your mouth?” Qui-Gon said conversationally, “Be honest, I don’t want to have to stop fucking your sweet ass with my tongue because you can’t keep quiet” 

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan admitted, voice thin already. Qui-Gon climbed up quickly, telling Obi-Wan not to move and rifling through the drawers he hadn’t emptied yet until he found his spare tie. Obi-Wan took it easily when Qui-Gon pressed it into his mouth, moaning his thanks. 

“I want to hear you later though, every sound you make, I’ve missed all the different ways I can make you moan,” Qui-Gon promised, settling back onto his knees and leaning in, rubbing the scruff of his beard across Obi-Wan’s pale skin. 

Qui-Gon teased him, but only for a few moments, just running his lips and beard over Obi-Wan’s skin, but Obi-Wan wasn’t the only one who was craving this, and Qui-Gon decided he would have time to tease Obi-Wan another day, and at a time when he was free to hear the myriad of noises Obi-Wan made. He ran the flat of his tongue over Obi-Wan’s hole just once before pressing in, pushing against that tight ring of muscle until it remembered him and let Qui-Gon lick into him. 

Obi-Wan writhed against the desk as Qui-Gon began relentlessly fucking him with his tonge, gagged enough by the tie that they shouldn’t be heard, but forcing Qui-Gon to use strong hands to pin him down as he buried his face between Obi-Wan’s cheeks, beard already turning his skin tender. Qui-Gon loved doing this for Obi-Wan, loved the taste of him, how intimate it was, loved the way Obi-Wan’s hole was so sensitive that Qui-Gon knew that if he rimmed him for long enough, he could make Obi-Wan come on his tongue alone; but the longer they took, the more likely they were to be caught, so instead Qui-Gon drove Obi-Wan to the edge as quickly as he could. 

“Hold yourself open for me,” Qui-Gon ordered, and Obi-Wan’s shaking hands came back to spread his own cheeks, freeing up Qui-Gon’s hands, one of which dropped lower to massage Obi-Wan’s balls, the other Qui-Gon sucked into his mouth and nudged at his hold alongside his tongue.

Qui-Gon was careful, but Obi-Wan got so loose for him, that after a few more minutes of licking at his rim and fucking his tongue inside his hole, Obi-Wan could take his spit-slick finger easily. Obi-Wan moaned into the gag, rutting backwards as Qui-Gon slowly pressed the digit in with his tongue, both of them fucking him in tandem while Qui-Gon’s other hand moved up to play with the wet head of Obi-Wan’s cock. 

Obi-Wan was panting, and when Qui-Gon’s finger pressed ruthlessly against the spot his tongue couldn’t reach, he heard the telltale pitch of his whines, the way his ass chased him, and knew that Obi-Wan was close already. Resisting the urge to drag this out, Qui-Gon quickened his pace, Obi-Wan riding his tongue and leaking all over his hand, and it wasn’t long before he was whimpering into the gag, jerking his hips and coming over Qui-Gon’s fingers and old desk. 

Qui-Gon pulled back, letting his finger slowly work him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, enjoying the way his legs were quivering, and when Obi-Wan’s whimpers took on the tone of oversensitivity, Qui-Gon carefully slipped out, standing and laying kisses to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. He righted Obi-Wan’s trousers and set him in his desk chair, grabbing some tissues and cleaning the desk before it could do any permanent damage. 

“Let me,” Obi-Wan said after a few moments, as Qui-Gon went back to boxing up the last of his things. Obi-Wan caught him by the belt, reeling him in and rubbing a hand over Qui-Gon’s still semi-hard dick, causing a prominent bulge in his jeans. “I’ve missed having you in my mouth.”

“Later,” Qui-Gon promised, catching Obi-Wan’s hands and kissing them. “I’ve no lube here and when I come I want to be inside you, fill you up with my spend and mark you as mine,” Qui-Gon said, because he was allowed to be a little possessive now; despite his clear fatigue, Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up. “Does that sound good?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered. 

“Well, then help me pack all of this up and we can make it a reality faster,” Qui-Gon smirked, laughing when Obi-Wan managed to snap into action, seeing to the final few books and papers scattered around the room. 

Before they left, Qui-Gon made sure Obi-Wan looked mostly presentable, and opened one of the windows in his room. Bidding the place goodbye once and for all, Qui-Gon realised that with Obi-Wan’s hand in his own, there really wasn’t very much that he was going to miss.

Qui-Gon ignored the looks they got as they walked out of the department building hand in hand, but couldn’t resist flipping the bird at Mace when he spotted him. It was childish and he should be ashamed, but he wasn’t, and he definitely heard Obi-Wan try to suppress a snicker beside him. 

The drive back was a blur, Obi-wan’s hand was far enough up his thigh to be a hazard for the entire drive and as soon as he opened the door to his house, Obi-Wan was on him, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him with abandon. 

They stripped each other as they made their way through the house and to Qui-Gon’s bedroom, both naked and pressed together by the time they got there, Qui-Gon’s fingers already toying at Obi-Wan’s hole again, where he was still sloppy. He deposited Obi-Wan on the bed, crawling over him and digging the lube out of his bedside drawer as Obi-Wan spread his legs wantonly. 

“I missed this,” Obi-Wan breathed as Qui-Gon wasted no time sliding a slick finger into his hole. His cock already hard and heavy between his legs, desperately wanting to feel Obi-Wan’s tight heat again. 

“Me too,” Qui-Gon agreed, kissing Obi-Wan deeply as he added a second finger and pressed deep inside Obi-Wan. 

“Ah, I love you. God I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else. No one is going to fuck me like you do, your hands are so fucking big and your cock is ridiculous. Christ Qui-Gon your cock, I had to buy a new toy just to have one as fat as you, as long, one that could get as deep as you do, but it wasn’t the same. I need you,” Obi-Wan babbled, making Qui-Gon chuckle as his cock throbbed. 

“Well you’re in luck, because I need you too,” Qui-Gon whispered into Obi-Wan’s ear, nudging a third finger into Obi-Wan and stroking them rhythmically over his prostate, enjoying the way Obi-Wan’s body jerked helplessly. 

“Fuck I love you,” Obi-Wan panted, fingers tangling in Qui-Gon’s long hair, falling over the two of them like a curtain. 

“I love you too,” Qui-Gon replied softly, going easily when Obi-Wan dragged him down for a kiss. 

“I’m ready, please fuck me. I never want to go this long again without your dick,” Obi-Wan begged, unabashed even through his uncontrollable blush, Qui-Gon ignored him and pressed a fourth finger inside of him, just to be sure, fucking him on them for a few moments before being fully satified that he wouldn’t hurt him. 

Qui-Gon slicked his cock, the noise wet and obscene, his cock aching when Obi-Wan’s hand came down to wrap around the girth, guiding his cockhead to his hole. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan begged again between kisses, and Qui-Gon steadied himself with a hand, the tip catching on Obi-Wan;s rim and pressing in. 

Obi-Wan cried out and gripped Qui-Gon tight, arms and legs wrapping around him as he tried to get Qui-Gon closer as he entered Obi-Wan slowly. By the time his hips were flush with Obi-Wan’s ass, the younger man had them caught in a complete embrace. He couldn’t get much leverage from this position, but he could tell they were both reluctant to release each other at all, so instead he held Obi-Wan even tighter in his arms and started grinding his cock deep into his ass, knowing that his cock was rubbing directly against his prostate when Obi-Wan’s nails dug into his back, crying out freely into their kiss. 

“That’s it,” Qui-Gon cooed between kisses as his slow, deep movements drove them both wild. “You take me so well, you’ve always taken my cock so well.”

“Please,” Obi-Wan begged again, and Qui-Gon shifted position, getting to his knees and hauling Obi-Wan up in his lap, his cock never leaving him as they remained tangled with one another. From here he could fuck up into Obi-Wan with more force, bouncing him in his lap while Obi-Wan was free to cling as tightly as he wanted, pulling at Qui-Gon’s hair with every pound of his hips, knocking breathless little ‘ahs’ out of Obi-Wan’s mouth with each one. 

“Are you ready to come again?” Qui-Gon asked, pleased when he felt Obi-Wan nod against him, his own balls drawing up Obi-Wan’s ass gripped him so perfectly. “Good boy,” Qui-Gon murmured. 

They were pressed together tight enough that Obi-Wan’s cock was finding friction between them, and as Qui-Gon’s cock continued to stroke deep inside of him, it was only a minute more before he felt wetness between them, Obi-Wan’s ass spasming around Qui-Gon’s pulsing cock as he came, dragging the orgasm out of Qui-Gon, pumping his release inside. 

They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, both of them panting heavily for a couple of minutes before Qui-Gon attempted to extract himself, only for Obi-Wan to re-wrap his legs around his waist.

“Stay inside me. Please. I’ve missed you,” Obi-Wan pleaded, cheeks flushed.

“Next time,” Qui-Gon promised, meaning it, he hadn’t left a warm washcloth near the bed as he usually would when he planned to stay inside his lover, and knew that in a few moments time, Obi-Wan would be glad to not be covered in his cooling release. 

Obi-Wan pouted, but let him go, and smiled contentedly when Qui-Gon cleaned his stomach, as he always did. When Qui-Gon lay back down beside him, he let his fingers trail over Obi-Wan’s skin, and back down to his sloppy hole, that he had purposely not cleaned. He let his fingers catch the come dribbling out of him and gently pushed it back into Obi-Wan’s sloppy hole.

“Do you think you can come again?” Qui-Gon asked, as Obi-Wan attempted to writhe both closer and further away from his fingers. 

“I think so,” Obi-Wan said, losing his words in a moan as the tips of Qui-Gon’s fingers penetrated him again. 

“Hmm, good. Tell me if it’s too much,” Qui-Gon instructed. Obi-Wan was still soft from his recent orgasm, so Qui-gon went slowly, playing almost absentmindedly with his hole, slipping the come that tried to escape back inside and humming sweet praise into Obi-Wan’s ears as his breath hitched and whined. 

When Obi-Wan’s cock started to thicken and sit back against his stomach, Qui-Gon let his fingers go deeper, brushing ever so gently against his over-sensitive prostate, loving the way Obi-Wan gasped and jerked. With a gentle but steady assault, Qui-Gon’s fingers worked Obi-Wan over, milking a third orgasm out of him, his come weeping out of his dick in an exhausted climax that had Obi-Wan nearly unconscious and shaking with the way his nerves were alight. 

Qui-gon cleaned him up more completely after that, it was barely lunchtime, but looking at Obi-Wan curled up exhausted in his bed, he decided they were allowed a midday nap if they so chose, and slipped them both under the covers. 

“I love you,” Obi-Wan breathed as Qui-gon gathered him against his chest.

“I love you too,” Qui-gon answered easily.

“I wish you were still inside of me,” Obi-Wan murmured, cheekily, but he could feel the genuine desire there, the craving for an extra layer of intimacy. Qui-Gon huffed and cuddled closer, letting one hand drop down and cup over Obi-Wan’s small soft cock. 

“How’s that?” He asked, kissing Obi-Wan’s shoulder, smiling at the heat of the blush he felt coming off his skin. 

“It’s nice,” Obi-Wan whispered back, voice tinged with embarrassment but settling down instantly. 

#

Obi-Wan, of course, obtained his PhD with multiple accolades, and on Qui-Gon insistence, took some time to travel a little, but on the condition that Qui-Gon and Pippa went with him, which was far from a hardship, but the latter did limit their options; not that they minded that much.

In the end, they ended up opening a foundation for educating children from disadvantaged areas or backgrounds, to give them a fighting chance to get them the positions and futures they wanted. After a few years, Anakin showed up and asked for a job, claiming that academia just wasn’t for him and complaining about bureaucracy. 

They also wound up with a truly concerning human-to-pet ratio in their house, as Qui-Gon became unable to resist any helpless stray that came across his path. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! All your comments and kudos are cherished! 
> 
> I make no promises, but I'm considering writing another QuiObi piece next, but I'm caught between a reverse verse au with master kenobi and padawan jinn, and a nice juicy jedi lore compliant (but eventually not canon compliant because i like my jedi's alive thanks george) forbidden love cannon!verse story ~ so if you've any interest in either of those then let me know! 
> 
> One final thank you, stay safe, stay home if you can, stay awesome like I know you are <3


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